Favor owed
by Ranekaera
Summary: My first fanfic in awhile. Mercy gets a were visitor named Ramona from out-of-state and has an encounter with her crazed were-ex, which leads to Ramona repaying Mercy and Zee with a favor to another Fae in Zee's name. Things get cold and interesting pretty fast, and soon Ramona finds herself deep in Underhill with a Fae she doesn't know by the name of Ymir.. rated m to be safe OC
1. Roar

Okay, so thanks to emtional and spiritual issues with writing and art in general this is my attempt at anew fanfiction for a book series im obsessed with. Im sorry in advance for any errors I may make, no ones perfect and I would really love constructive criticism or just plain old reviews. I'm without internet at my house at the moment so responses may be slow. Enjoy!

The day was clear and sunny, it was a mild spring day and business was booming for Mercy Thompson-Hauptman, coyote-shapeshifter, VW mechanic, wife and mate to the Alpha of the Columbian Basin Werewolf pack.

She'd bought the garage from her mentor and friend, Fae Siebold Adelbertsmiter, or just Zee, as friends called him. Life was going well, they had two cars currently in the garage, work was going well on her project car, and life within the pack was settling down at last. No one needed any favors, no one needed a job doing, life was coasting at the moment and honestly she couldn't remember being more content.

"Pass me the blowtorch, would you?" she asked Zee. Normally one had to be careful what they asked of the Fae, enigmatic bastards that most of them were, but they were working and it wasn't a huge favor.

He passed it to her, his glamour being that of an older man with a wiry frame, slight beergut and liver spots on his bald spot. His glamour was unremarkable. But Mercy had seen him without it a few times. Beneath it was an unnaturally tall, unnaturally beautiful steely warrior with long golden hair, skin the color of wet bark and an immunity to iron and steel. Zee was iron-kissed.

"How goes your project rod?" she asked. Unlike her, who preferred classic cars to be as original as possible, Zee was of the mind that if it could be improved, improve it. He liked gadgets and new tech.

"It goes well, libchen. Heads up. Looks like another customer," he said offhandedly.

Mercy wheeled herself out from under the Buick she was working on. Though her specialty was VW, she offered her service for any kind of car, really. What she saw driving into the yard was a beaten up old Geo Prizm. It'd once been blue, now it looked mostly gray. The paint was sunpeeled in some places, rusted in others and the engine sounded... hoo boy.

The woman driving it got out and smoothed back whisps of fluffy-looking dark hair. She was short, not much over five feet and a few inches, had a pretty rounded face and pale skin and was rather gifted in the chest area. Other than that she didn't look familiar to her. She;'d never seen her around.

"I hope I'm not interrupting...," she started, walking forward. Up close Mercy saw her eyes were a peculiar bright blue. She also smelled... odd. Her sense of smell was better than most human's, though not as good as her coyote nose and something about this woman didn't smell quite human. Zee seemed to pick up on it, too, she noticed, but she didnt let it put her off her game at all.

"Not at all. What can we do for you?" she asked, trying to be a good businesswoman.

"It's my car... well, my mother's actually, I borrowed it. Drove it all the way here from Maine. It's not very happy with me, it keeps stalling out and the engine's gotten louder... I can fix a few things, but I'm lousy with engine problems. I know it says you're a VW mechanic, but is there any chance you could take a look anyway? " she practically pleaded.

She was slightly overweight, and beneath the not quite human smell, she smelled strongly of dog, fast food and desperation. Mercy cast a look over her shoulder at Zee, who shrugged back and wiped his hands on a dirty rag.

"It is your time, Mercy. Perhaps it will be a quick thing," he said.

She sighed, blowing the air out her mouth, and motioned to the last empty spot. She didn't have hydraulic lifts, though she'd kill for just one.

"Drive it around, I'll take a quick look. Geo, huh," she mused.

"...Yeah. It's seen better days," said the woman. She was dressed in loose fitting clothes, a bright green peasant blouse with belled sleeves and a long grey skirt. A cloth bag with celtic knots on it served as a purse. Mercy then noticed the pentagram round her neck. She was either a Wiccan or a witch. She didn't smell any black magic. Wiccan then.

"Clearly". she agreed. She waited until the car was in position and then jacked it up, and opened the hood.

"Mother of god," she swore.

Nearly everything was covered in grime and the battery cap was so fouled up with sludge that the connections were mostly corroded. It'd be a lucky thing if she could even hook it up to jumper cables at all, and nearly all the fluids were gone.

"Tell me you take better care of it than this," she mumbled. She didn't expect anyone to hear her.

"I do. My mother doesn't" the woman replied from somewhere above her. That told her the woman whoever she was knew Mercy knew she was more than she seemed, and was comfortable letting her know she knew.

Mercy quickly saw what the problem was. There was a short in one of the sparkplugs and the Engine was most likely approaching the nd of its natural life. It had already been haulted out and redone twice that she could tell.

"All I can say is it needs a new sparkplug, and you should look for a new engine, but good luck. Geo aren't very easy to find anymore, not this year and model. Your best bet is to give it a viking sendoff," she wiped her hands off.

The woman sighed.

"I know, I know... I've never owned a car but I had to come out here...I'll have to call and tell my folks the bad news. Thanks," she pinched the bridge of her nose. She dug around in her bag for something, probably a cell phone, and without a warning something struck the outside of the garage with a BANG.

Mercy was immediately on edge, the garage had been attacked before. Zee was outside before she started out, and she watched as, moments later, he was thrown back with enough force for her to wonder if there were foreign werewolves about. It sounded like a werewolf. It did not smell like one.

"Stay here!" she shouted behind her, without looking, and she ducked into her office to shed her clothing. Changing for her was almost immediate, and painless, so it was as a thirty pound coyote she ventured outside to see just what the problem was.

Zee was holding his own against what had to be the biggest bear she had ever seen. Its fur was shaggy and white and its eyes blazed a baleful orange not normal for most polar bears. Its claws were nearly eight inches long and it was playing with Zee like a bathtoy. Zee, the dark smith of dronheim, one of the oldest and most feared Fae Mercy knew of, whose temper was once so renowned that most still regarded him with cautious respect. For all his magic and an enchanted Fae blade that cut through anything, this bear batted him about and took every hit. It bellowed, baring bloody fangs. There was no way Mercy stood a chance against this monster. She accessed her mate bond and the pack magic available to her, and cried for her mate, her husband Adam, but with the security cameras he had installed he probably already knew.

"Werebear!" was the only word out of Zee that she got that wasn't a curse in old German.

Suddenly out of nowhere there was an almighty roar, and without a sound an enormous snow leopard burst out of the garage like hell on wheels, and placed itself between Zee and the bear. For some reason, the sight of the frothing feline made the bear pause and growl at it. She spotted a dangling silver charm around the leapord's neck. Pentagram. Ah, so that was why the woman hadn't smelled human.

She was a wereleapord.


	2. Sorry to the wrong person

CHAPTER TWO

Mercy had grown up around werewolves all her life, so that was where her expertise laid, it wasn't often she hung around with other kinds of weres. They were far and few between.

The she-cat coiled herself as if on springs, long, powerful tail twitching, and gave another warning roar. Her fangs were like sabers. She was three times bigger than a normal snow leapord and Mercy only knew that because she'd seen them at the zoo.

The bear turned and ran off, and it was a few moments before the leapord relaxed her pose and turned back to her and Zee, who only stood staring.

Up close, the wereleapord was gorgeous. Shaggy silver and white fur with beautiful clouded spots and the brightest vivid blue eyes. Her behavior was catlike, not that of a wolf, and Mercy found herself caught flatfooted. If this were a werewolf she'd either meet its eyes or drop them, but this was essentially a big cat. Since when did cats care who was dominant and who wasn't?

"That was a close one," said Zee finally.

"What the HELL was that about!?" demanded Mercy. She fed a little pack magic, dominance into her voice, something that made most people obey her when she spoke but the cat just gave a cranky growl and yawned. She lowered her head and yowled, ears back slightly. Mercy took it as an apology.

Just then the cavalry arrived in the form of Adam, as a wolf, and his second Darryl, plus three other of the pack, all in human form. Adam in his wolf guise was colored like a grey and black siamese, and he saw the snow leapord and snarled.

The leapord spun around, flat to the ground and hissed. Her fangs were bigger and she had more muscle on her, her claws were longer and sharper... dominant as he was, if he got into a fight with her he could lose.

Mercy changed back, and unmindful of her nudity snapped "enough! Everyone, garage, human, NOW," she cast a pointed look at the snow leapord.

Zee shrugged and stepped off, shaking his head. Mercy couldn't tell if he was irritated or amused. For Zee sometimes the two went hand in hand. The snow leapord followed him in at a brisk pace that made no sound at all, liquid mercury on four legs. Mercy had to admit the animal she became was beautiful.

As soon as they were all inside, Adam and the woman started the change back. It was painful to watch and Mercy knew it was even more painful to feel. Unlike when she did it, weres went through all the torment of having bones and muscle shift, rearrange, even re-orient. For Adam, the last to change was his skin. For the woman, the last to go was her tail. They both stood naked, something Adam was used to. Clearly the woman didn't care either way, but she walked to her car and brought out the clothes she'd had on before. Darryl handed Adam a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

"What the HELL was that about!" demanded Adam right away.

"I'm sorry to say it's probably my fault... that was my ex," said the she-leapord. Her face wasn't happy but her body language said she was beyond pissed.

"Your ex is a werebear who just happened to come across you when you came all the way from Maine?" said Mercy, not believing it. She could usually smell a lie, but there were some who did it well.

"He must've followed me... I'm really, really sorry, really," she looked around at Zee. "He's... kind of insane. I broke up with him weeks ago and he's been stalking me. Part of the reason mum let me have the car so long. He's delusional," she sighed. "... I can pay for the dents in the garage door...," she added in a slightly more meek tone of voice.

"Do not talk to me about dents, the garage belongs to Ms. Thompson," said Zee, though he seemed to be thinking of something.

"Start from the beginning, please, Mercy...," sighed Adam. So she did. She started from the time the woman drove in, and ended with them arriving.

"So she drove off her ex, that's... something. You alright, Zee?" asked Adam. The Fae and the local pack had an... understanding. Not best of chums, were they, but they worked together when need be. Associates one could say.

Zee took a moment to answer.

"I will be fine. What is your name, miss?" he asked the woman.

The woman pushed her hair back again, though there was little need. Mercy guessed it was a personal quirk. "Ramona Dunbar," she replied.

"Ah, Scotland. Uncle Mike would be very interested to meet you, little werecat..," Zee smiled. Mercy groaned. "You HAD to apologize directly to him, didn't you?" Zee would probably now expect a repayment. She wasn't wrong.

The woman seemed to realize this and did what Adam's daughter Jesse would call a facepalm. "Wasn't doing much anyway...," she muttered.

Adam gave Mercy a kiss and circled an arm around her shoulder. "You gonna be okay? Should I leave someone with you?" he asked.

"No, I think it'll be alright... you go, I'll see you at home," she gave him a quick squeeze.

"If you're sure...," he trailed off.

"I'm positive, she doesn't mean me any harm personally and it looks like Zee's about to have a field day with her anyhow. Go," she insisted.

"I expect a favor in return for the damage your... aquaintance did me and mine, fleeting as it is," Zee said sternly. Ramona instinctively shrank back a little. If she were her leapord self, her ears would be flattened. If she were a wolf, her tail would be between her legs.

"Name it...," she sighed.

"I owe a favor to an aquaintance of mine who goes by Erik. I would like you to pay it for me. Tell him I sent you by proxy and do what you can to aid him. I will consider us even. You can find him at a bar called Uncle Mike's. Tell him I sent you, too. I don't expect the bouncer will let you in elsewise," said the one called Zee, and he began writing an address down for her.

She took the slip of paper. She could feel the magic rolling off of him. It was how she knew the Fae for what they were, not only by their smell. She could feel magic if it was nearby. It felt... kind of tingly.

"I have GPS... I'll fix that sparkplug and hope the engine likes me for another few days, get right on it," she tucked the paper into her bag.

"I shall know if you do not," he reminded her firmly.

"Only a moron would piss off the Fae," she responded with a touch of her usual charisma. Zee managed a smile, so she guessed that was alright.

"I have heard the like before," he agreed.

"Right... well. I'm gonna go... now," she trailed off lamely. LAME, she thought to herself in her head. She turned and headed back for her car, very aware of the eyes watching her as she went. She'd been born after the Fae had come out of hiding, so she'd never not heard of them. How stupid could she get...


	3. Uncle Mikes

CHAPTER THREE

She crawled back into her mother's tiny car, something that despite its rough shape she enjoyed driving. It was like an extension of her feet, really. She slipped in a Cd and typed the address for the bar into the gps, and she took off. The place was kind of off the beaten track, she soon found out. The road was dirt and there was hardly any traffic. The gps wasn't building-specific so she had to watch and look for numbers and landmarks, but it wasn't hard this time. Mike's was the only place for a mile in any direction and there was a steady line of SUV's of every color parked outside. She felt very small indeed as she slipped into a spot that was too small for another SUV but big enough for her little Geo, and got out, smoothing her hair and clothes and straightening her necklace. There was a lot to be said for first impressions.

She went up to the door and right away was eyeballed by the man out front.

"No humans allowed in, I'm afraid. You can find a human bar down the road about a mile," he said gruffly. It didn't really work, as he had a kind of light voice.

"Um... a Fae named Zee told me to come and settle a favor in his name with someone here," she tried to sound authorative.

"... let me talk to the owner just to be sure. Wait here," he said, and he disappeared inside. She didn't need to wait long before he was back and another was with him. He was a surprise. He wasn't much taller than she was and had an open, good natured face. When he spoke it was with an Irish accent, and the voice was kindly too. She liked him right away, though one never could tell with the fairies...

"So, old Zee got a human to settle a debt did he? You should find Erik inside in the corner. I wouldn't recommend talking to anyone else. Some here don't take nice to humankind," he cautioned her.

"I'm a wereleapord," she folded her arms.

"Really now? That's interesting... still. I don't recommend it. I'm sorry but that's just how it needs to be,".

She nodded and walked into the place, not expecting what she found. The place smelled of hot wings and fries, burgers and beer and by all accounts it looked more or less normal. The wood was stained and the people for better or worse seemed average, but she knew better. The place was tingling with magic and for a moment she felt suffocated. She made herself relax, and started politely weaving her way through the little crowd. She got a few odd looks, and a couple VERY distrustful ones, but eventually she found her way to the only table towards the back that was only occupied by a single man. He had light colored hair and a slight bald spot.

"Are you Erik?" she asked.

The man looked up at her with something like curiosity.

"It would depend on who was asking," he replied. He had an accent she couldn't quite place. Norse perhaps. His voice was gentle.

"Zee sent me to settle a debt," she said shortly.

If he'd been expecting anything it wasn't that. He blinked, and gestured to the chair across from him, and she took a seat, feeling a little on the spot. It wasn't often she was in the company of such powerful, mysterious creatures.

"It was kind of my own fault... I wasn't watching what I was saying," she smoothed her hair back and tried to look apologetic.

He laughed.

"So many mortals still don't. It becomes a game after some time for some of us. But yes, he did owe me a favor. As it so happens I could use some help on this most recent... venture I must undergo. But it requires some secrecy," he said sternly. He put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on tented fingers. He was staring at her. She mimicked his pose and stared right back, as only a cat would do. She smirked.

"I can keep my mouth shut with the best of them. And I'm not as good at it as you guys are, but I don't lie either," she replied.

He stared for just a moment more.

"We shall see. If I had known he would send a mortal... but it can't be helped. It's too late now to alter my course of action, so I will have to take what I can get. Zee always was a tricky one. But first your word. You will not speak of anything we do or anything you see, to anyone?" he asked.

She took a moment to ponder that one seriously. To go back on a word to the Fae was inviting trouble, and not the legal kind. More like the mortal danger kind.

She fingered her pendant so the light would catch it and let it fall.

"My word," she replied. She was a little excited, truth be told. There weren't a lot of things that weren't interesting that the Fae would insist on keeping secret.

He pondered her for another moment and seemed to decide she wasn't lying.

"In the past I frequented the high mountains of northern Norway. I find I need to return there to take care of some... personal matters. However it's a bit hard to get to, unless we travel through Underhill. I warn you now, the journey won't be easy and for you especially it will be dangerous. I will do my best to have your back. And as it turns out it's your back I will need," he smiled.

Underhill? The land of the Fae, the place they called home when not on the mortal plane, the place they had come from, and she was going. Words couldn't contain the excitement coursing through her. She was Wiccan, no magical talent to speak of aside from being able to feel it, and her life had been on the fast track to nowhere until her psycho ex decided to go rampaging zoo. She grinned.

"I think a little danger is just what the doctor ordered. Before you plan anything else though you should probably know I'm a wereleapord. Snow leapord," she grinned. "So the cold should be no problem," she waved it off.

This interested him a lot more than it had Uncle Mike.

"Ah, but isn't that perfect then! Zee that old imp, he knew what he was doing when he thought to send you, then... see on the mortal registration papers I put myself down as an "ice elf"," he grinned. "You'll see eventually," he added, noticing the look on her face.

"So, Underhill... land of the fairies in the stories I read about growing up," she grinned.

He raised a finger.

"DON'T let anyone or anything down there hear you call it _that_," he stipulated, though there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "I don't personally mind all the things you mortals say about us. My temper isn't what it used to be. But there are plenty out there who DO, and were or not... there would only be so much I could do. If I were you I would take precautions and tell anyone that matters you'll be unreachable for a couple of weeks. Don't tell them why if you can," he advised her.

She took a moment on her cell phone, a big beast of a thing with a four inch flatscreen and a case that had its own bright blue LCD lighting on the outside. Very techy looking and she loved it. She only told her mother and her best friend.

"Done," she smirked, tucking it away.

He'd admired the phone case at least.

"Good. I had planned to leave in the morning. Do you have a place to stay? You're not from around here," he smirked.

"Ahh... heh. I'm from Maine. Just got in earlier, and no, I don't," she replied.

"If you don't mind sleeping on the floor, you can rest at my home. We leave at dawn's light," he clapped his hands with a smile. So that seemed to be his plans all wrapped up. Even if she had no idea what she'd gotten herself into she had to admit she was a little excited.

"Will I need anything of my own, personally?" she asked.

He seemed to think on this for a moment.

"If you have any food rations with you, bring them. Also, do you happen to have a harness for your other form?" he asked.

The question took her by surprise.

"Ahh... no. But one could be easily made I think," she offered. "I have all kinds of random crap in the car we could make one from if there's time".

"Bring those then. You can follow me in your vehicle." he got up to go, and left a pretty generous tip on the tabletop.

She got up to follow him, keeping as close as she could to avoid the possible wrath of any ill wishers that looked at her on the way in. They made it to the door unscathed and she cast a wave and a smile at Uncle Mike, who waved back at her.

"Drive safe," he called.

She stepped back out into the approaching gloom and breathed deep.

"I never notice how hard it is to breath around all that magic until I step outside and breath in the sky again," she gave a happy sigh.

Erik gave her an odd appraising look.

"An odd thing for a mortal to say, but very pretty. Ah. You're Wiccan," he nodded towards her necklace.

"Yes. I wear it as a cat too," she grinned. She motioned to her little car and Erik took one look. His expression said it all and she laughed.

"I know I know! It's an eyesore but it's my mother's... she lent it to me so I could escape a crazy ex, it's a long boring story... which one's yours?" she asked.

He hopped into an ice blue Explorer and backed out. She waited until the all clear and followed him, keeping a respectable enough distance. Her window was down and it was chilly but she didn't roll it back up. If they were going where she thought they might be going, she would need it to be down. Her CD player cheerfully belted out an old ACDC tune, and she found herself drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as they drove.


	4. Dinner at the reservation

CHAPTER FOUR

He turned off at the end of the road and she followed him. It continued on like this for some time, the roads getting greener and greener the further they went. She was right, they were headed for the Wall Walla reservation, the Fae reservation set aside by the government. The Fae kept it hidden and with good reason but she knew there were some kind of guards. The Fae policed themselves.

He stopped at the gate and exchanged a few words with whoever was there, and pulled forward. She did the same and stopped beside the guardshack. It was a woman.

"You're spoken for, but you're out of here at dawn. I need your ID," she said curtly.

She dug around in her bag until she found it, and handed it over. Her hair had been an explosive shade of purple.

"Colorful. On you go and keep out of trouble," she sniffed.

She pulled away and caught up with Erik at a four way stop, muttering, "cheery".

To her immense surprise, it looked like any other housing development. Trimmed lawns, though a lot of them were artfully kept uncut. She found it pretty. No litter in sight, though nor could she see any people in sight.

He led her to a quaint looking little two story with a single car garage and pulled his in. As there was no room for hers, she parked it in the driveway and hoped he could forgive her making his home look like trailer trash.

She got out and stretched a little, before popping the trunk and making a show of looking around. She found the tiedown straps in a minute, great big orange things. The buckles could be taken off, she knew.

"Steel," he remarked.

She jumped and hit her head on the trunk with a clunk, and turned to see her looking at him.

"Ow?" she rubbed at her head. He chuckled.

"Apologies. You should find a way to remove the steel. Bringing anything like that into the reservation at all, let alone Underhill will get you in more trouble like as not," he warned her.

The Fae were seriously weakened by cold iron or steel.

She couldn't get the straps loose, so used a knife to cut the fabric straps free. She had some good lengths in the end. All she had for food, however, was a baggie of kitkat bars. She grabbed those too because you never knew, and shut the trunk.

"Nice place, this. I was expecting more... I dunno. But it's nice. Glamour that is," she smirked.

He frowned at her.

"I know I know, silence. My lips are sealed. Don't worry. I can sense magic... I can't see through it or touch it," she sighed a little sadly.

"You speak like one who wished they were Other," he remarked.

She gave him a look and hid nothing from her face. That was exactly what she had wished oftener than not since childhood. She hadn't had it easy and her adult life... well.

"You have no idea," she sighed sadly. She shook herself out of her momentary funk and smiled.

"Anyway, onwards?" she asked.

He stared at her a moment more before nodding. "Yes. Just a warning, if you DO happen to see through any Glamour, here or within my home, don't wander. Just call to me," he asked. She frowned, puzzled. Well that was odd advice, unless under the suburban charm layed some kind of ice elf labrynthe. She shuddered. She hated puzzles.

"Got it," she nodded.

He led the way inside and motioned for her to sit anywhere she liked. She chose an armchair beside the fireplace, of which there were two. Upon entering, there was a kitchen of sorts to the right, with a bar that seperated it from the living area, which besides the fireplace and chairs was a couch and a flatscreen tv. There was a hallway leading to more, but she didn't want to poke around. The whole place smelled... clean in a wintery kind of way. Fresh and cold, like stepping out on a winter's day. Yet the temperature wasn't cold. Curious. She must have been smiling because she caught him shaking his head at her in amusement as he fixed something in the kitchen.

He came out with that turned out to be hot chocolate, and she held the mug in her hands for a moment, wondering if she ought to. Everyone said never trust the Fae, and more than one tale told of mortals drinking or eating food given to them by fairies only to suffer at their hands later. She stirred it curiously.

"I haven't done anything to it. Swiss Miss," he sipped his own.

"So-ah," she stopped herself before she could say sorry. He smirked again.

"You never know... some of the stories I've read and heard," she shrugged and took a sip. It was delicious and warm and as always, it made her smile. She nodded her thanks and he set his drink on a sidetable beside the chair. With a word and a gesture the fireplace lit itself. She grinned.

"Magic is seriously cool sometimes," she smiled.

"Only sometimes?" he raised an eyebrow. She giggled, but caught herself mid 'ha' with a yawn. She hadn't slept much on the trip here and it showed.

He watched her until she was done. "What was that?" he asked.

"Hm?" she frowned.

"In your mouth," he motioned.

She moved her tongue around a moment and it dawned on her. "OH,... tongue ring," she said sheepishly, and stuck her tongue out. He frowned.

"More steel," she sighed.

"... I can take it out if it'd be better... but I hadn't planned on licking you or anyone," she tried to joke. His facial expression made her laugh. She had a nice laugh.

"I'll take it out...". She reached in and unscrewed it, and slipped the thing into her bag.

He was quiet for a moment more.

"You are an interesting sort of mortal," he shook his head.

It dawned on her she hadn't even told him her name.

"Where the hell are my manners, my name is Ramona," she smiled.

He nodded.

"I go by Erik now, though you may hear some call me Ymir," he replied.

She nodded, and procured the cut straps from the trunk of her car.

"If you have a tape measure and wouldn't mind measuring round my ribs and shoulders, I can make myself a harness," she offered. "I don't want to slow you down any,".

"But I'm no no particular hurry. No sense being rash," he countered, though he produced a tape measure of the sort used to tailor rather than build. She nodded and got up to walk into the kitchen, where the bar could lend her a little privacy. He watched her.

She stripped out of everything below the waist and then ducked to pull her top and bra off. He'd be able to see bare shoulders and guess what she was doing. Normally she didn't mind nudity, but he was Fae, and a stranger and well... girl had to draw a line somewhere.

She rested on her knees because it would be easier, and began the change. She called upon the leapord within her, and she gladly came to the forefront. Her elbows and legs began reversing directions with grisly popping sounds and muscle stretched, shfited, changed. Bones elongated or shortened and her gums itched as fangs grew. There was an odd ripping sound like upholstery being shredded as fur shushed out over her whole frame. The whole ordeal was quite painful but it was a kind of pain she could ignore and eventually shake off. Five minutes later, she padded out from the Fae's kitchen a 260 pound snow leapord, and sat obediently by the fire. She was aware her leapord form was infinitely more beautiful than her human one but she wasn't expecting his reaction.

"Well aren't you just gorgeous," he smiled, and bravely lifted her jaw up to get a better look at her.

"You know there was a time long long ago when I would keep a pack of werewolves by my side, for hunting. If I still did such things... but no matter. Here, stand," he touched her shoulders.

She got back to four feet and sneezed. The magic thic much closer to the floor was tickling her senses and her tail curled around her back feet. She stood still and as naturally as she could while he measured around her ribs and across her shoulders, then around her neck.

"Done," he wrote down the measurements.

She nodded and padded back into the kitchen to change back. Twice in less than a few hours was pushing it, she was going to be starving.

When the pain finally subsided, she hastily pulled clothing on again, forgoing the bra. Her blouse was baggy enough that no nipple would show through however cold it got. She'd just be changing anyway probably.

She came back out, grimacing slightly at how tender her skin felt, and sat carefully. She rummaged until she found what she wanted. Needle and quilting thread. He raised his brows.

"Like safety pins, you never know when you'll need them," she smirked, and she got to making a sort of dog's harness for her leapordy self. When she was finished, she stretched it out and tried to imagine a leapord wearing it. Satisfied, she handed it over, and her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in nearly 24 hours and with changing twice... she could really go for a few burgers.

He didn't seem aware of her plight and she was too polite to ask anything more of him. She watched as he did more things to the harness, using what looked like both magic and his own little tailor tools. In the end he'd turned her harness into a backpack of sorts, and by the sounds of it, it was already full of things.

Finally he seemed to hear the gurgling.

"Ah, I forget. You werecreatures need to eat quite a lot don't you?" he smiled.

"Hey, even pack mules need to eat," she smiled.

He frowned.

"You'll be more than just a pack mule I'm afraid. There may come a time to fight, and occasionally I might want more company than a throw pillow," he folded his arms. She couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Well, you'll be happy to know I make a good throw pillow and I'm a good conversationalist too. And as a human I can't fight. Dead useless. I need my claws for that," she smiled.

"Good. You may help yourself to whatever you can find in the kitchen. I expect you'll be paying me back in kind as well as Zee in the days to follow. And please try not to be TOO polite. I can't have a hungry wereleapord in Underhill," he frowned at her.

She blushed a little but nodded. Meat would be the best thing, and it didn't have to be cooked.

"I am retiring for the night, you're welcome to sleep wherever you find it comfortable. I will wake you when it's time. Until then, Ramona," he smiled, and he left his cocoa half drunk where it stood and disappeared down the hall.

Well she didn't want to be rude, and she was starving... she got up to go raid the cabinets and refridgerator. Surprisingly he had it well stockd with stuff you'd find at any supermarket, and she was a little surprised at how much meat he had. The freezer was stuffed full of it, some storebought, some that was wrapped in butcher paper. There was a chest freezer, and that too was stocked full, though all of that was what loked like hunter's game. She decided to stick with hamburger and bear meat, which she loved but which was sort of hard to come by in most stores, and set about thawing it in a conventional microwave. She shut it off before it could hit 1 and make a lot of noise, and set about eating her raw, bloody feast. It was slippery and cold and the blood was even moreso, but it was food and it was quieting the hungry growl in her stomach. She ate a little more than was wise, and tucked the rest away back as she had found it in the freezers.

She could handle sleeping in an armchair. One of them reclined, and it was with an excited smile that she lounged back in front of the fire, closed her eyes and slept.


	5. Into Underhill

CHAPTER FIVE

Her dreams were almost always on the strange side but rarely did she have dreams about her own past. But she dreamt for some reason about a home she and her mother and sisters had once lived in, a long time ago when she was seven. She had liked unicorns then, and had been beyond naive. In the dream, her sisters were infants, starving and bruised and her mother, a hibernating bear. She herself had been wearing boxing gloves. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. She hadn't been a very nice daughter or a very nice sister, though she'd never beaten them. And her mother had suddenly turned white, turned into a ravenous, insane polar bear, and ate them all.

She was shaken awake and thus out of the nightmare and awoke with a gasp, wide awake, heart thumping.

"You were talking in your sleep," said a voice. She looked around and saw a stranger. He was huge, nearly seven feet tall, and his face was mostly obscured by beard. His eyes alone were the same icy blue and his hair grew in a wild braid that he had flung over one shoulder. It nearly reached his knees. He wore a furred tunic and pants and had furred boots and gloves on, a weapon of some sort slung over his back along with a monstrous bag. He held a walking stick.

"...Erik?" she mumbled.

A grin showed from beneath the beard.

"You look better without the Glamour," she yawned, and then figured if he was ready to go, so too should she be.

"Human or cat?" she asked.

"Cat would perhaps be best for now. Here. Eat first," he reached around to the bar and handed her what looked like a bear burger with all the fixings. How had she slept through him cooking?

She chowed down as fast as she safely could, and then unabashedly began to strip, stowing her clothes and her bag into the pack they'd rangled up the night before. She noticed him watching and stood there by the dead fire, completely naked. She didn't look THAT bad, though she was a big chunky.

"What? It's just skin," she shrugged.

He just gave her that smile again and he waved her on.

She concentrated again, welcoming the fur and even the pain it would bring and ten minutes later had become the snow leapord with the pentagram necklace. She stepped awkwardly into half of the harness and Erik buckled it up and adjusted it for her. She shook herself out experimentally and gave an unhappy growl. The leapord didn't much care for it, but she was in charge here. She gave a rumbling sort of mewl as if to say lead on.

Suddenly and without a single warning, the house around them vanished. Where there had once been polished floors and a stone fireplace and a kitchen there was now a stone hut the size of a two story building, and outside, snow. He led the way out the door, and she followed, stealthy despite the pack on her back. If she'd been human her jaw would've fallen.

If this was Underhill it was incredible.

There was snow, yes, but the sun was bright and twice as big as it was where she was from and the plants everywhere were a pure shade of blue-green not found normally in the human realm. Strange little animals scampered here and there in the brush and in the distance she could see mountains and hills, with snow and without.

"The climates can change without a warning. You're apt to find snow next to a white sandy beach some days, and volcanoes the next. But I keep my little home safe from those extremes. Stay close by me, don't make noise at anyone. If anyone asks, you are a dumb animal. It would be best to act like one for now," he warned her.

She could play up the dumb animal bit. She gave hm a brief nod, and started.

He led them over the first few hills with no problem and she had to stop herself from looking around more than was normal. Everything smelled so fresh here, so... untainted. She was so used to things like gasoline and human polution she'd almost forgotten what fresh evergreen smelled like on a clear winter's day. The snow beneath her paws soon gave way to springy grass. It was stiff, sticky stuff and she didn't much care for it but it was a deeper green than she was used to, and smelled sweeter.

He didn't say much until they got to what looked like a penninsula of what she'd come to think of as 'his' land, amid a ravine of sorts. Across the way it looked like spring, tangled mint-colored vines and huge poofy leaves. Strange balls of colored light moved among them here and there and her first thought, ironically, was fairies. They very well could be.

He must have noticed her looking, because he put a finger to his lips and muttered something in that same strange language. Up from the ravine rose sharp pieces of ice as thick around as her foreleg. It hovered in the air to form a bridge, and she was glad he was the first to walk across. She followed at a brisk pace. She hated heights.

Once across the ravine, things seemed to change. The vines that had looked spring fresh had a scent that was heavy and cloying. She coughed, harsh hacking sounds and followed up with a sneeze. They gave off a pollen that she wasn't used to.

Up close, the floating lights were indeed fairies, but not the kind she'd grown up with. They looking nothing like miniature humans. Their arms and legs were stick-like and their skin was of every shade of "bark" imaginable. Their wings were ragged like those of leaves and irradescent. The glow they emitted seemed to come from somewhere within. They made noises that made her feel like running; she had a thing about flying insects. She fought her instincts down with an unhappy growl and walked directly beside Eric from then on out.

"Heheh... not many of us like them either. Devilish little tricksters they are, and probably the source of most mortal fairy tales," he muttered to her.

She wished she could communicate as a leapord sometimes.

He led them past the fairy ravine and onwards towards the hills and mountains in the distance. She wondered if any of the landmarks here corresponded to something in the mortal realm.

The hills beyond were greener than green, a color she could see well and felt like drowning in. The moment they stepped foot onto the grassy incline, she had to fight the urge to roll over and frolic like a kitten at high noon. It was peculiar and not at all welcome, but the sun shining off the dewdrops like that was so inviting, and it would be so soft...

"Stop that," said a harsh voice. It snapped her out of her reverie and she realized she'd been rubbing her jaw along the soft ground and yowling like a beast in heat. She quickly shook her head and hopped up with a growl. Stupid enchanted grass! Why couldn't it have been the other magic grass? Not that she did that.

"Rrrr," she said by way of apology. She tried to look sheepish but with a cat that was hard to do. Their normal look ranged from "indifference" to "fuck you".

He led her up the first incline and from here you could see the mountains in the distance.

"Our path leads us up through those mountains. It'll be easier going this way than it will once we pass through again into the Norwegian mountains but it'll still be quite cold." he informed her.

The leapord within her was leaping for joy. Mountains! Snow! Rocky inclines and camoflauge! The snow leapord was at home in such places and part of her couldn't wait to show off a little.

"The only dangers we should face on the way there are some ... indigenous wildlife, and once up in the mountain, what you would call yetis. Really they are just Fae. Very... moody Fae." Was there a hint of a smirk on his face?

Regardless she was confident. So far the only potential threat they'd encountered was enchanted grass, and really that was just dumb. She had a thought that perhaps that was because she was traveling with someone big, strong, and or powerful.

He started off again and she saw that it would be awhile before they hit snow. She had a bit of a repeat when they sauntered past a small wooded grove where mushrooms grew wild and tempting and he'd had a good laugh watching her roll around and drag her jaws on the ground once the fungus began to itch. Really she needed to start learning. After the mushroom incident they encountered a bunch of what he called Merrrow, scaled people with wild green hair, skin and eyes, upturned noses, small finlike arms, scales and fish tails. They looked wild and very unpleasant. One of them dared attack her "for the pretty spots" it said, and she got a mouthful of merrowflesh for its trouble.

Fae did not taste good. At least the merro didn't. She spent a few seconds coughing up dark purple blood and gave the rest of them a threatening roar that made their lake ripple. They stopped bothering them.

"You should have eaten him you know. They will just bother us again on the way back, horrible memories," he smiled down at her as they walked.

Somehow that sounds like murder to her. Sure they hadn't been too smart, but there were humans who were pretty dumb, and protected same as anyone else. She figured they could talk more on such things when she could be human again.

After the incident with merrow lake, the going got rougher. The grass gave way to rough sand that got stuck in her paw pads and that gave way to more solid rock. That eventually gave way to mountain.

They'd made it to the first peak. Now to climb it.


	6. White meat or Dark?

CHAPTER SIX

Here was where it really sucked, in her opinion. As adapted at climbing as her leapord form was, her human once was terrified of heights, and they had no safety nets. The slope wasn't THAT steep, but just the same, she'd have been a lot more comfortable. The wind got harsher the further up they went, and the further up they went the colder it got. Eric seemed to be enjoying himself. He'd had a grim sort of smile on his bearded face for the last fifteen minutes. He hadn't approved her showing off, however.

"If you fall, it'll be on my head. Keep pace or keep behind, pick one," he'd said grumpily.

The mental image of her big cat ass on his face was not an appealing one though if she were human it would've made her snicker. She was quite mature for 27. So she chose to climb beside him.

The wind whistled in her ears, blowing her thick fluffy fur around and she used her powerful tail for balance and stability, trying to ignore the silver-white beard being blown in her face now and again. The pack made things a bit harder going than normal, but she had a feeling she'd be glad for it later. She had no idea what he'd packed, or indeed even what they were going to do. All he'd told her was "personal matters".

Eventually she worked up enough courage to find a big enough ledge for her, hop up as numble as ever, and look down behind them. She had to hide behind the cat for that one, because her human mind reeled. They were about halfway up, the air was thinner and it was a very long way down.

Fortunately, snow leapords were equipped to deal with that. They had big lungs, small ears set further back to protect from the harsh winds and the muscled tail, big paws, short stocky legs and thick fur all equaled something very at home up on steep mountainsides. She found the higher they went the more she had to let the leapord be in charge, only popping in now and again to remind her what they were doing and why. The cat found her fear amusing.

"Rest a moment!" he had to shout to be heard over the wind. His voice boomed, catching her attention, and she made the last step onto a plateau of sorts, covered in a thick blanket of snow. It was just big enough for two or three people to sit and breath, and she was thankful for it.

He took his pack off and just as she was wondering if the Fae needed to eat, he brought out the biggest protien bar she'd ever seen, and ate it. Then he pulled out another one, unwrapped it, and offered it to her. She was very gentle with her fangs as she accepted it. It wasn't meat, and it had the texture of kitty litter, but it wasn't bad and it was food. She pushed her big flat forehead against his arm to show her thanks and sat down beside him. Oh boy was she glad her butt was covered in fur.

They sat for a few moments, listening to the wind sing her merry tune and have her way with their hair and in Eric's case clothing, before he started off again, and so she followed.

They made it to the peak a few minutes later. Despite her imaginings, the peak wasn't so sharp and pointed, rather, it had enough of a flat surface to sit or stand on. And the view... the view was well worth it.

They could see for miles in any direction. There were more mountains, of course, and a lot of snow, but beyond that she saw an ocean, a great sprawling pool of blue glittering under the distant sun like a gemstone, and before that, a forest, some of the treetops seeming to move. Beyond even that looked like a plainsland or a meadow and beyond that, well they would just have to see, her eyes weren't quite THAT good.

"Beautiful. But sad. Underhill doesn't have the magic it used to, much like us," he told her.

She looked at him as if to say "where did it go?" but he shook his head.

"For another time. Come. There is a cave not long down the next mountain we can spend the night in. Not safe to travel in the dark in this area," he told her.

For once in her life she wished she had wings.

And so on and on it went. The next mountain was much like the first, and they found the cave long after it got dark. The darkness here was absolute, despite their seeming to be more stars than was natural.

The cave was set about midway down the second peak, its lip lined with piles of thick fluffy cold. Her legs ached and she was exhausted and she craved nothing more than a warm bed or blanket and something hot to eat. It seemed he felt the same way, because he led the way in.

A bellow was what they got in response.

She charged in despite the infinite darkness and had just enough night vision to see Eric's outline, grappling with something huge. There was a thunk as he dropped his bag, and then his scent... changed. His outline changed. And so did the noises he was making. She suddenly didn't want to come to anyone's rescue, but her choice was made for her.

"You bring a mortal pet with you!? Have you no shame!?" was all she got in English before something the size of a saucepan hit her over the head and sent her spinning. Now she was pissed.

She gave a roar, and leapt for the outline of the thing that had got her, and she dug her claws in as deep as she could. The whatever it was had thick, wiry fur and smelled like goat and stale milk. It made her want to vomit, she really didn't want to bite anything that smelled like that. So she let the leapord take over completely.

She dug her teeth into the fur and felt something hard like bone, crushing it. The beast gave another wild howl and again, she bit. It swung her around and threw her off. She hit the cave wall badly, but landed in snow, so that was alright. The walls seemed to be made of solid ice.

She growled and shook it off, and launched her attack again, this time aiming low for the legs and ankles. If it couldn't stand it couldn't fight, right? She and her inner cat were in agreeance and she snapped her jaws around the thing's ankle. One sharp tug, some help from whatever Eric had become, and their foe was felled. There was a sharp snap, like a tree being broken in two, and silence.

She shrank back towards the coldness of the icy wall and kept up a steady low growl, both to let not-Eric know she was still there and highly aggravated and partly to comfort herself. The fur of their foe had been too thick to get to much but she'd snapped bone. Her jaws were wet with blood. Whatever it was tasted a lot better than the merrow.

Five minutes passed, while not-Eric made some noises over by the ouline of his bag, and a moment later a roaring fire lit the entire cave awash with an inviting orange flame.

She blinked, letting herself get used to the light, and the warmth, oh by the Goddess the warmth it brought was so very welcome. She saw then that the thing they had brought down resembled a yeti as much as an SUV resembled a Humvee. The general shape and size looked right, but it had taloned feet like a hawk's and its head was too big for its body, with a wide gash of a mouth full of broken fangs and two noses side by side. Curled horns protruded from its head. Dark red blood oozed from its shoulder where she'd bitten it, and its ankle.

"Yeti. Unfriendly types. Tastes just like Ibis, if you're into it," he said. She looked at him finally and saw what must be another of his forms, a hulking beast with a snow white pelt. Snow seemed to radiate off of him it seemed, and his mouth was full of teeth and there were odd misshapen lumps where a nose would be and his eyes were small and silver, set up high in his head. His voice was lower, different. She watched as he shifted back to the bearded man she'd come to associate with.

"War form. Don't ask," was all he said.

She knew she'd regret it, but she started the change back harness or no harness. She wanted to talk. The adrenaline beat out her exhaustion nine to one and she made the change back in seven or eight minutes. She wished she hadn't.

Sitting naked in the snow, leaned up against ice wearing what looked like a bdsm harness that seemed to emphasize her breasts had her shivering so hard her bones ached.

He rummaged through his bag and tossed her a thick squashy looking sleeping bag. It was purple. She climbed into it, zipped it up, yanked it up to her chin and sat there like that, feeling like a glow-worm or a caterpillar. It must've been enchanted because despite the below freezing temperature she was warm. A big lazy grin spread over her face.

"Oh this is bliss," she grinned. He just smirked at her.

"I surmise you wanted to talk?" he asked.

She nodded, and looked to the yeti they'd felled.

"Eating other Fae isn't cannibalism?" she asked.

Eric set about making their temporary camp, tending to the fire, setting up his own sleeping arrangement, and shoving the yeti to the side before he decided to answer. When he did, he had the largest knife she'd seen in years in hand.

"We aren't a nice, ethical, cuddly people, Ramona. We are all of us very different from one another. The majority of us have known death, even murder and more than a few enjoy the taste of flesh. Human in most cases, Fae in others. It is survival for some, choice for others. In our case, it is waste not want not. I will feel no remorse over his demise, and neither should you," he explained. He waited a second and then shook his head with a grin.

"You're pretty useful in a fight, you know," he added as he started to peel the skin and fur from the dead Fae. "Snapped his tendon clean through".

She smiled and wiped the blood from her lips. "I know. I was reacting on instinct mostly, but also partly to show off. I can be useful sometimes," she insisted.

He kept up with his grim task until the thing on the ground resembled a pile of muscle.

"One might wonder why you strive to catch my attention so," he teased her.

She scoffed.

"Where I'm from, I'm good for mostly nothing. Don't do anything all day, no job, no money. The economy sucks and Maine has no jobs to be found. I just thought I'd prove myself a little for a change," she protested.

To which his only response, after a few seconds pause, was, "white meat or dark?"


	7. Time for talking

CHAPTER SEVEN

As it turned out, the yeti tasted a lot like lambchops.

She found she was a lot more comfortable with it once the thing looked more like a pile of bones and less like a body. It wasn't half bad either, she thought as she finished a pretty nice tenderloin. Whatever Eric was capable of, he cut a nice steak.

They both ate in relative silence, and when they'd had their fill, he did a nifty bit of magic that seemed to flash freeze what was left. He put half of it in a side bag and tossed the rest outside for the scavengers. The corpse followed suit.

Now there didn't seem much to do except... sit.

She drew her legs up to her chest within the sleeping bag; she'd slapped on a pair of borrowed thermal underwear that was much too big for her, but she'd rolled up the sleeves and legs and it was serving well enough. The sleeping bag did the rest.

"Is this thing enchanted somehow?" she asked, more to break the silence.

He was writing something in a notebook.

"No. Bought it from a sporting good's store a few years ago, top of the line sunzero proof," he answered.

She fingered the material and marveled anew at it.

"Wow... I have to look into that sometime, this is amazing," she muttered loud enough to be heard. She wondered what it cost, and then sighed, reveling in the warmth.

"So what brought you all the way to the Tri-State area from northeastern New England?" he asked.

She ran a hand through her hair for no reason at all and winced.

"It's a long story...," she said finally.

He waved a hand around at the ice cave they were in. The fire wasn't melting it for some reason.

"We have all the time until we sleep," he reminded her.

She may as well.

"You've gotta understand, my life is kinda numb. I've never been able to keep a job longer than six months at a time. Various reasons, and the economy sucks. As of right now, still jobless, actually. I used the money from a tax refund to come out here. Nearly out of that, too," she began. "This is the most excitement and purpose I've had in... years," she gave him a weak smile.

He nodded, just watching her. His icy blue-silver eyes twinkled slightly in the firelight.

"I know, sad...," she sighed. "I'm 27. Been living at home for ten years, it's pathetic," she added.

"Not at all... but for what it is worth, I'm happy to be the reason you're having a good time." he smiled. She knew the Fae couldn't lie and it was this that made her believe him. She had... trust issues.

"So you used a tax refund to come out here to-?" he urged her go on.

"I met someone a year ago... another were. Polar bear. It was kind of perfect at the time, y'know? I've never had the best luck with guys, even though I've never had much trouble... you know, attracting them. Aaron wasn't an exception. Not long after we got together, he got creepy. Stalkey. Really posessive. I broke it off and it got worse. He went from creepy to scary. It was like he was finding me wherever I went and I talked to my parents. They suggested I get out of the house, take a trip, stay with friends... anywhere. I think they wanted a break from me too, to be honest. So I borrowed the car and picked a place on a map with my eyes shut. Wound up here," she shrugged.

He was listening to her while he tended the flames but he didn't speak out of what she hoped was respect. She took a moment and went on.

"Her car... well, you saw it. Chances are you could smell it. That car saw better days before we got it from some guy for three hundred bucks. I brought it into a VW garage because it was the first garage I saw and I didn't want to just drive aimlessly in hopes of finding a different one, so I stopped. And he found me again," she sighed.

"He found you at that same garage?" he asked suddenly.

She nodded.

"I have no idea how. I've blocked all his calls, I never turn the GPS on my phone on and we have no friends in common. To my knowledge he doesn't have a car, but there he was. Throwing the one called Zee around like a ragdoll," she huffed.

Eric gave her a look. She couldn't read it very well.

"Zee? Siebold? Fae who works with the shapeshfiter called Mercy Thompson?" he asked sharply.

She blinked. It wasn't a reaction she'd been expecting.

"...Yes. He had this black sword, looked pretty nasty, and it sliced him up pretty good but he just kept on coming... threw him around pretty good," she nodded.

"...Zee is very old, and very unique. There was once a time when many were afraid of him. He was sometimes called the Dark Smith. He is what is known as iron-kissed. He is a Fae who can work with and manipulate iron and steel, any metal really. He's calmed down over the last century or so but there are still plenty who would treat him with caution on a dark road. If you say your ex boyfriend was throwing him like a ragdoll, then I would suspect he was more than just werebear," he said darkly.

That was a terrifying thought.

"This is a guy who once threatened to kill me if he saw me dating anyone else. I gave my gay friend a hug and he want ballistic. I don't know how he keeps finding me," she folded her arms with a huff. "I have... emotional issues. Mood disorder. Throw in trust issues and ugh, I'm rambling," she covered her face with her hands.

"On the contrary, I don't mind at all. Feel safer in knowing he couldn't possibly follow us into Underhill," he smiled.

"Heh, yeah well there's that unless he's part Fae," she snorted. "Which I doubt. Bastard lied like a junkie," she grumped.

"Well, not all part-Fae are bound by truth...," he said.

"So... what, you CAN'T lie, or you're not ALLOWED to by some reason?" she asked.

He only gave her that enigmatic smile.

"Right. Guess there's still some stuff you can't say. Well, YOU can't lie, that's something. Ha!" she suddenly got a thought. "So if someone asked 'does this make my butt look big'...," she snickered.

He rolled his eyes but he was smiling too.

"I've gotten that joke before, yes. Even had it asked of me, once. She took my silence for confirmation and threw a shoe at me," he grinned.

The mental image that brought up made her laugh.

"You all seem so... stoic and wise, magical and ancient. Special. It's hard to imagine any of you doing something so mortal as _dating_," she smirked.

"Well, we do. Sometimes. Dating humans is encourage because you all breed so much faster than we do. I haven't indulged in a couple of years. Hearing your story, I'm glad for it," he teased.

"Oh, har har. Tell me, does this sleeping bag make me look fat?" she shot back with a grin. She gave a little wiggle that made the nylon of the sleeping bag sashay against itself with a shushing sound. He smirked at her.

"No. It makes you look like a child snuggled up in her parent's sleeping bag," he smiled.

"You're not my father".

"I certainly hope not. I'm childless, as far as I'm aware," he turned away and sipped something from a chipped coffee mug he'd brought. She had a similar one. They were full of some rich dark chocolate drink. It was delicious.

"So what about you? I know you guys are so secretive and all that, but what's your story?" she asked. "Don't have to tell me everything if it suits you better".

He layed down in his sleeping bag, about three or four feet away from her, and layed on his side so he faced her. The sleeping bags had sort of built in pillows attached to the bottommost layer. It seemed he was thinking.

"My story is long and complicated, bloody and cold. I list myself as an ice elf with mortal authorities. Truth is, I have an... affinity for cold. I like it. I channel it. There was once a time I ...," he paused here. "Have you heard of something called the Wild Hunt?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I'll spare you most of the details. There are some things I... shouldn't speak of. Sometimes when you speak of things, those things hear you and it makes them more influential. But I used to ... participate, using a pack of werewolves I held under my "influence". It isn't something those who know of me have likely forgotten about," he smiled sadly.

"Werewolves can hold grudges," she said bleakly. She layed on her side to face him, reminded oddly of a slumber party she had when she was younger where all they did was talk.

"You're not wrong," he chuckled. His mustache twitched. None of his facial hair was very bushy.

"It's been a long long time since those days past. For the last decade or so I've been presenting myself as a blue collar worker in the real world. Computer maintennance," he smiled. "Despite all the metal involved I do so love the many ways you people have come up with for entertainment," he smiled.

"I know. I've beaten Vampire the Masquerade twice and Skyrim's one of my favorites on Steam," she grinned.

"... I have no idea what either of those are. Games?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I spend most of my time on the computer...," she sighed.

"So werewolf pack. What happened to them all?" she asked.

His expression grew cloudy.

"Hunting can be dangerous," was all he said. That was enough said.

"Well now you have a snow leapord," she smiled.

"Don't," he said suddenly.

She looked at him puzzled.

"Don't... what?" she asked.

"Don't put yourself in the same position as those wolves. You're here to repay a favor owed, not a thrall. You're not a pet," he growled. "You forget I am Fae. I'm not a friend and I'm often not a nice man. Don't understep the boundaries,".

She was slightly taken aback by the sudden subdued outburst. Part of her was a little bit hurt, yes, but most of her wasn't surprised. She had a low enough self esteem that she usually expected to be rebuffed. Well, she'd been rebuffed.

"Sorry," she said meekly.

He was quiet for a moment, watching her, then the fire, then back to her.

"...As am I. It has been years since I traveled with anyone, and those... were days I am not now proud of," he said a bit softer.

She sighed and stretched beneath the sleeping bag.

"Well it's nice to know you're not a friend. For the record, I suck at reading social cues," she sighed, and thinking well there, that's the last word, she rolled herself over and shut her eyes. She could feel him staring at her back, though.


	8. Alone

CHAPTER EIGHT.

She wasn't aware of falling asleep but she must have at some point. The next thing she knew she was being shaken awake with a large but gentle hand on her side between ribs and hip.

"Time to go again," he said.

She yawned and looked outside. Unsurprisingly, it looked dark still, but he was the boss on this one. She regrettably left the warmth of the sleeping bag and turned her back firmly before stripping out of the borrowed longjohns as well. The fire cast warm shadows across what bare skin there was but she didn't care if he was looking or not. He wasn't even human, and like he'd said lastnight he wasn't her friend. However nice and accomodating he'd been thus far. She started the Change.

Ten minutes later she stood there covered in fur, making soft mewing sounds of residual pain. When she thought she finally had a grip on things, she turned and pawed at the harness off in the corner with a helped her put it on and then surprised her somewhat with a pat on the head. She sure wished he'd make up his damn mind, was she a friend or not? She'd be willing to bet "not", but time would tell. This journey wasn't over yet.

She got to the mouth of the cave and saw that it was snowing big, fluffy white flakes. It was still bitterly cold but the snow made everything so peaceful and beautiful despite the fierce wind. She sat down and just watched it for a moment, until she realised he was watching it with her.

"I forget how beautiful this is," he said somewhat whimsically.

She snorted, and got a move on a step ahead of him to tell him she was ready to go if he was.

She folded her ears back against the oncoming wind and kept her head down. Her nose was getting cold, because they were walking into the gale. If she layed down, she could use her long tail to keep her nose warm, like most snow leapords did but they had someplace to be.

He didn't protest at her seeming eagerness to go. She was here to repay a favor after all, she couldn't make Zee look bad, or he'd be angry.

Despite it being early morning, with the snowstorm they were traveling in it was hard to tell. The sky was opaque and the sun reflected off of everything. Of all the times she wished she had a camera. They were traveling on a snowy pass of sorts, between the mountains now. Now and again she saw what looked like icicle waterfalls, great glittering sheets of the crystals frozen on either side of them. This must be beautiful in spring, she thought to herself.

"We got lucky. This pass isn't always so nearby," he told her. She could hear his footsteps and the thunk of a walking stick from behind her. Step step thunk, step step thunk.

She turned her head back and gave a long, plainful yowl, as if to say 'are we there yet?'.

He chuckled.

"We'll be there when I say we're there. Underhill is quicker going but there is still a vast ocean and many miles of land to cross in the other realm. Patience, Ramona," he said with a smile in his voice.

That'd be all they needed, to come out of Underhill and find themselves drowning in the north Atlantic or the English Channel. The leapord hated the water, and she hated the salt content in her hair.

They traversed the snowy pass with little problems, encountering nothing more than what resembled a snowy fox and a few rabbit-like creatures that chittered at them in what sounded oddly like speech. The glittery icicle falls gave way to jagged rock and she found herself wondering if Norway would look much different. She'd never been out of the US before, didn't even have a passport but she figured the Fae didn't concern themselves with things like that.

She felt the ground tremble beneath her great furry paws, and she looked back with a puzzled noise. Eric had stopped too. She padded over to him slung low to the ground and kept her brilliant blue eyes peeled. What had made the ground tremble like that?

Through the haze of the storm they could see a faint, hulkish outline, bigger even than the Yeti from before, and its cry was echoed on all sides, from high high up above the pass. She looked up at Eric. Would he be fighting these, too?

"Run," he said just loud enough for her to hear.

She shrank back. Run where? How far? Underhill could change in a minute, he'd said it himself, what if they got seperated?

"Run! Straight through the pass and down the mountain, GO!" He said suddenly. He grabbed her round the shoulders, and gave her a light toss, nothing to pick her up, but more to get her moving. She snarled, the sound carrying, and got moving. Adrenaline flooded her, and she wondered just what had their scent this time. When someone told her to run, she figured they had a good reason.

The snow stung her eyes and nose but she didn't let it slow her down. Twp feet in front of the others she ran, tail outstretched. If she were human she'd be laughing in a terrified kind of way, like she had whenever someone had chased her as a child. There was that same feeling of 'something behind me, can't let it get me'. She knew damn well these things didn't want to chat or have tea. The wind seemed to pick up and snow around her feet swirled up in unnatural little eddies to slow her movement down. She felt the magic at work, her paws tingling with it. Whatever those things were, they were trying to slow them up. No way in hell.

With a roar, she did something she didn't normally do, because she knew that beside the Fae, Wiccan "magic" wasn't anything much except sheer force of will and determination, but she willed it to let her be. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, because she could see in front of herself again, and she could see the pass. She kept on running, fleet-footed and as fast as she could go. Her big paws acted like snowshoes. She could see the end of the pass ahead, and a roughly hewn trail into the rock that meant down the mountain. Was he behind her, had he followed her? She stopped a minute to look back. She could hear sounds like fighting, but she couldn't see anything. He'd said not to stop, hadn't he? Down the mountain and all.

She decided to take him up on the offer, and began to traverse her way down. The path wasn't very smooth but fortunately, little problem for her mountain cat body. The wind began to die down and the snow began to float a little more, and she felt sure she'd escaped the danger for now. But what of Eric? She strained to hear, and couldn't hear anything but the snow anymore. She crouched down a little, letting her coat blend with the rocks and snow until she was nearly invisible, and thought.

She'd distinctly heard four of them, perhaps five. They'd been nothing but shadowy outlines, but had been bigger than the Yeti. He'd told her to run, which meant he probably knew what they'd been or what they wanted. He'd said he'd have her back as long as he could. Did it still apply, or was she alone, stranded in Fairyland with no idea how to get back? If she was stranded, how long would she be here? Part of her was giddy with the danger, excited that finally she got to decide her own courses of action, but a bigger part of her was worried. Should she keep going, or should she stay put, owing to her natural camo-fur to conceal her while she waited? Then it occured to her she wasn't blending very well with the harness and bags on her back now was she.

She decided to keep slinking her way down the mountain. Far, far below she could see what looked like a snowy forest. It was the best thing she'd seen all day, in her opinion. Forest meant ground and ground meant no more hard winds.

Paw over paw she borrowed from the leapordess and trusted to her to know the way to go about scaling down the side of a mountain. The path wasn't so well-carved out that it didn't still take some work. This was not an idle hike, none of it. Still she was worried. What were those things, and what of Eric? But he'd said to go. So she was going.

She was making pretty good time so far, she thought. The snow was washing away most of her pawprints, but where there was rock, they never showed up anyway, so tracking her would take some skill even for a good hunter, something she was grateful for. The closer she got to the bottom, the better she could see the forest, and tell that it wasn't like any forest she'd seen in her old neighborhood. These trees were huge, and like something out of a Tolkien novel. Grand roots covered what forested floor she could see and the scent coming from them was puzzling to her, in that she'd never smelled trees like them on Earth.

She took the last few steps from the snowy mountain, nearly 80 degrees vertical, and landed softly enough though she sank a little. She was faced now with a trek through forests unknown, he hadn't mentioned this part. And it was getting later in the day, she was hungry, and moreover she was frightened. This wasn't some friendly forest in Colorado or Maine, this was Underhill, Fairyland, a place where even the trees could probably move. Well that thought settled it, she'd sit right there until Eric came to find her.

She circled a few times in a five foot radius to trample the snow around her, pawing at it with her claws, sweeping at it with her tail, until she'd made what she thought was a respectable little snow bed, and she layed down and curled up with her long fluffy tail covering part of her face. Her nose sure welcomed the new warmth that was for sure. Now to wait.

It wasn't snowing so hard down here and there were plenty of spots further on that she could see that were even bereft of the fluffy white stuff, shielded by the canopy above. The trees exuded such a peaceful smell, like evergreen and cinnamon, though the latter was faint. Her ears flickered now and then. She was listening for any sound, a foostep, a breath, anything.

Something flickered by her face, getting her attention but the minute she turned to look at it, it was gone. She gave a low warning growl to whatever it had been. Frigging fairylights. Well she wasn't moving from this spot no matter what, so just let them try. She could out-stubborn a brick.

She was just settling again when the light flashed by again. She batted at it with an irritated swipe and gave a louder growl. Leave me alone, it said.

"Well now, what do we have here," said a voice so suddenly that she jumped. She looked around towards the source. It wasn't Eric; this voice was deeper, the words slightly slower, and whatever it was had more of a celtic accent though she couldn't place the dialect. All she saw were trees and snow. But suddenly where there had been nothing, now she was looking at a Glamour. She could tell it was a Glamour, because it smelled like one. But she also smelled Fae, and rotted bark and dirt, a very woodsy, earthy smell.

The man who approached her cautiously looked human, with a long dark beard and dark eyes, dressed from head to foot in various furs. He carried a long, beautifully twisted walking staff wound up in some sort of needled ivy plant she'd never seen before. It was very pretty, and probably not a Glamour.

"If I'm not mistaken, you don't belong here, do you pet," he said again. He held a hand out to her and more out of instinct than anything she shrank back and showed her teeth, though she made no noise. Her eyes were cautious. She didn't know whoever this was and she was willing to bet the 'don't trust the Fae' applied doubly when one was on their native turf.

"Now now, no harm meant to you or yours. Or are you here alone? I wonder how one such as you got here at all," the man mused. He sat in the snow, just like that and seemed to study her. A gentle wind ruffled her fur. Perhaps if she just acted like a common leapord he'd assume she was an animal, someone's mortal pet perhaps? She couldn't let anything here know she was anything but what she looked to be. Too many Fae she'd read about liked humans... for unwilling comapny or food, she was willing to be neither.

She shrank back further still until her butt touched rock. The cat didn't like being cornered, so she hissed at him, her face returning to its blank catlike stare.

"Ah, but then you must be here with someone, for you don't travel lightly and I have never seen a cloudy leapord wear such pretty jewelry," mused the strange Fae, motioning towards the silver necklace that hung about her neck in either form. Damn! She would've broken the chain off and buried the thing in the snow if it would've helped but she couldn't do that now, could she?

"You are waiting for someone perhaps? Your friend, no doubt. Why don't we wait together, hm?" asked the stranger. He reached out to let her sniff his hand, but she didn't need to. She knew enough about him already. Rotting bark and wet dirt, snow, pine needles and ice. Either he was some kind of forest lord or something not so nice-sounding. She didn't speak Gaelic, who knew.

She hissed at him again and gave a low warning growl, before laying down again in the snow.

"Message received. I shall keep my distance then. So if only you could speak, hm? I wonder what tales you would tell," the stranger smiled. There was something... odd about that smile. His Glamour seemed to flicker just slightly and she caught a shadow of what lay beneath. Something with dark skin and amber teeth. But as quick as she'd glimpsed it, it was gone.

He was silent for a moment more as he studied her. She studied him right back, never taking her eyes off of him. As the snow fell in gentle flakes she noticed that the Glamour he portrayed had tattoos on the parts of his neck she could see beneath all the furry clothing. That was a little odd.

She wished Eric were here, he knew everything about this place. She spared a look back up at the mountain and gave her strange company a miserable caterwaul.

"Ah such a sad sound. You know, I've been bidden by my Lord to report anything suspicious to him. I would say you seem a tad suspicious and you're a very pretty thing," he said at last.

She did nothing. Normal snow leapords didn't listen to speech, so she feigned ignorance. His lord? Who the hell did he mean, a Grey Lord? Forest Lord? She waited.

"But you're from the Iron realm, where mortals dwell and how do I know what he would do with one such as you? Lay claim to whatever you carry, no doubt. But I think I'll wait until your owner turns up, hm? Unless of course you're more than just a very big snow leapord," the man suddenly smiled.

She feigned a big yawn, showing her big upper and lower canines, and curled her tail around her face again. He didn't seem very dangerous, but one could never tell. Was he friend or foe?

His voice seemed to change slightly. Normal humans may not pick up on it, but she did. It deepened slightly and lost that whimsical what-have-we-here charm. It wasn't unkind, but it was brisk.

"On my word as what I am, I promise no harm to you, whatever you may be. Can you speak, or do you refuse?"

Promising no harm didn't mean he wouldn't turn her over to whoever this lord was. But it was clear he didn't believe she was just some stupid big cat.

She lifted her head and stared at him, flicking the end of her tail. She shook her head with a minute little motion, just enough to be an obvious 'no'. Which was an obvious yes. Yes I am more than I appear and no I will not speak.

"Ahh so then what are you, Leapord who is as big as a Tiger? I have seen your kind in human zoos before. Never are they as magnificent as you," he smiled.

To this she just shook her head much like any cat would do and licked a paw.

So he had promised she wouldn't come to any harm but she could hardly change back here. She'd be naked, exposed to the cold elements and this man had promised no harm to the leapord. Maybe she was overthinking it, but one could never be too careful. How could she communicate?

She bounced up and made a chuffing noise at him, and then turned to the mountain, tail twitching, as if to say 'follow me!'. She did it again, in succession perhaps three times, before clawing at the rocky mountainside.

His brow furrowed. "You wish me to follow you up the mountain and into the pass. I'm afraid I cannot leave the forest," he frowned.

She growled in annoyance and then got an idea. She couldn't write in the snow but she could walk in it. She thought for a moment on what words she should choose. It wouldn't be wise to use the other name Eric had given her, Ymir. She didn't even know if that was his real one, or just a previous one. Finally she decided, and set about jumping and leaping about the strange Fae, used her feet to write instead. Big, slightly sloppy letters written with big shovel sized paw prints. D. S.

Okay, so maybe 'monsters' was a little offensive but she had no other word for the things she'd only half seen up in the pass. It took the Fae a moment to figure out what she was doing and then when he had it figured out, he took a step back to read what she'd tread. He smiled.

"Ah, so you're more than a leapord after all. Curious. But monsters? There are none but Fae in Underhill, though I daresay some can be monstrous," he smirked.

She found a fresh patch of snow, still not far from where she'd landed when she jumped the last two feet from the mountain, and started again with the capering about, writing in the snow by walking and jumping. M.

She sat and waited as he read that next one, sitting upright like a very big dog with her tail wrapped around her snowy paws.

"I understand you wouldn't want to stray far in case he comes for you. You know, I really should report you to my Lord. I am Fae and we cannot lie. If he asks have I found anything I could not say no, could I? But perhaps... if he were to come along, you are just a stray pet, are you not?" he smiled. He seemed to be thinking. Perhaps he was benevolent after all!

She gave a brief nod and an eager growl.

"Then wait, and I will go and fetch him. Perhaps he will have some idea to find your missing friend," said the friendly Fae, and suddenly she had an idea. She rolled around in the snow, trying to get her harness and the bags off of her, turning to snap halfheartedly at the thick fabric straps that held it in place. She was trying to make it obvious that she wanted it off of her.

"Hush now, you'll upset the bags," he frowned, and he carefully undid the harness, letting her walk out of it. She dragged it off to a small pile of snow near her little tramped down snowbed, and set about burying, though something of her ilk would have rather hid it up a tree. But these were tree people. She didn't want to advertise anything. Finally she was satisfied that it looked hidden enough, and she shook her fur out and waited.

The Fae dropped his glamour and walked away, slowly. Without it, she saw that he wasn't so large, perhaps a little over six feet, thickly built with dark brown skin and shaggy, leaflike hair. His arms were overlong and ended in branchlike fingers. A tree Fae, obviously.

A thought occured to her. She had to ditch all semblamce of pet-ism. Which meant her favorite pentagram necklace had to go. It was much easier to get off, all she had to do was roll in the snow a little bit and snag it with a claw. The chain broke and it was nothing to hide in the snow. The silver blended right in. She felt a little naked without it, but it'd help her in the end. In the silence and the snow, she waited.


	9. The beach

CHAPTER NINE

She was curled up so close to the mountainside and she'd been waiting so long that the snow had accumulated on her fur that she wasn't surprised it took the strange, friendly Fae so long to lead his friend back to her. She lay there motionless enough, only her snowridden fur moving in the wind to give her away. Finally she gave a yowl and stood up to shake herself off, and they approached her. Neither of them had glamour this time.

There was the thick-built bark-skinned one with the amber teeth and the sticklike fingers and overlong arms, hair like spanish moss. And then there was what he had called his 'lord'. This Fae was impossibly tall, close to eight feet, and human in shape only. His skin was moss-green with lichen-like patterns of alternating white and dark brown and wild, snow-covered needles served as hair. It hung down like the branches on a weeping willow. His eyes were set too far apart and quite large, a hot liquid yellow like the world's purest sap and his mouth when he spoke was full of dark little fangs. He wore no clothing, but she couldn't see any genitals; there was a line of the same willow-like "hair" leading all the way down much the way a human's would.

"So you are the curious not-leapord who had stumbled into my forest," remarked the Willow Fae. She was just going to refer to him as "willow" in her mind, whatever name he gave her for himself would probably be just as false.

She only stared at him, four paws planted far enough apart to take up a solid stance. Hopefully she appeared to just be a lost companion and not much of an accomplice. The only reason she'd wanted her pack and necklace off was so no one saw an opportunity and took them.

The forest lord surveyed her for a moment, looking down at her much like one would study a stray cat at their feet.

"I do many things with trespassers unto my domain, little mountain cat. Sometimes I bring them home with me and feed them. Sometimes they become my... guests. Sometimes I lead them safely beyond the forest. And sometimes I introduce them to my ... less than friendly "friends"," said the willow fae.

So this Fae must be one of those finicky sorts who helped or hindered depending on what mood they were in. And she hadn't liked the way he said "guests". It hadn't been a lie, it couldn't have been. But all the same... that hesitation.

She lowered herself to the ground and kept her eyes trained on him, letting a soft warning growl carry just a little. With any luck at all he'd think she was just another lost pet, just a lost companion to someone with eccentric tastes in pet. Come on you idiot, just buy it already, she thought to herself.

He seemed to study her for a moment, pondering.

"Who is it you've lost then, hm? Perhaps one of the Snow Fae, they do like you cold weather fiends... or perhaps I can just send you back up to the mountain from whence you came, yes? Or maybe I should lead you through to the other side near the beach to stop you hunting the animals in my woods?" Geez did this guy ever stop pondering and shut up?

She laid her ears back, eyes still wide, and chuffed at him. A lot of people didn't know it, but everything from a domestic house cat to a tiger at the zoo knew that sound, and used it as either a greeting, or a sound for attention.

"Yes I think perhaps that is what I'll do. Will you come quietly, or do I need to carry you, cat?" said the forest lord.

She got up on all fours, tail twitching. Musn't make him think she'd understood him, so not too fast.

"Pick her up and carry her," he said to his companion.

The one who'd approached her before stooped in front of her. Up close his skin even had the texture of old tree bark. His teeth weren't all flat, either, though they were amber colored. She allowed him to get her chest and back legs, marveling at how strong he was, she was the size of a small tiger. She struggled a little, making unhappy growls and even a snarl, she had to be convincing. If she just let the leapord have full rein, she risked trying to hurt one of them and then she'd be in hot water for sure.

"Hush, or I'll change my mind about being so kind," said the forest lord as they began to walk. No! Her pack! Eric's things that he'd entrusted her with, what if she'd need something later! She redoubled her efforts to get away but the fae who held her whispered something strange and she felt an odd dizziness sweep over her, her limbs and head becoming heavy. Her mouth suddenly felt tingly and stupid for lack of a better word. If she weren't in this furry body, her speech would be slurred. It felt sort of like when they put you under at the dentists.

She couldn't do much but growl and lay there like a limp little trophy, tail swinging free. She could watch where they were going, though. The canopy overhead made the forest seem darker than she knew it was and here and there she could see where ice had made the needled branches heavy. Sunlight shone through in these places, dazzling her momentarily. The deeper in they went, the more worried she became. He hadn't let her know just where exactly he'd decided to let her out. She only hoped that when Eric caught up to her, he'd smell her and find the pack. Or their tracks, she would settle for either of these.

Snow crunched beneath their feet and the one carrying her shifted her weight so now her bespelled head lolled to the side and suddenly she was looking out around them versus up at the canopy above their heads. Snow had gathered in patches over the forested floor but there were many tree roots that lay as bone dry as summer. She caught flashes of light like those she'd seen before here and there and swore somewhere in the distance she could hear laughter, manic and festive. It put her in mind of something she'd read in one of the Tolkien books, where the dwarves were lost in the forest following some sort of elven people who kept vanishing. She was suddenly glad she had escorts, as unwilling as she was.

She didn't know how long they walked like this, in silence past trees that had to be older than anything on earth that she knew of, but eventually they began to thin out, and she could smell the salt of the ocean. The breeze didn't blow quite as cold but it was harsher. Her senses were assaulted by the smells of sand and kelp, various things that had washed up somewhere upwind and water.

She was set down rather gently beside a large piece of driftwood the color of silver.

The forest lord looked down at her limp form. She still couldn't move much faster than 'slug', but she rolled an eye to look up at him and gave a long, very unhappy sound.

"Oh hush. I think someone will find you soon. The point is you're no longer my problem. Good luck, little lost pet," he smiled, and with a swish of vines, he and his companion were gone. Now she was stuck exhaling into lukewarm sand, examining very closely a tiny grain of black in with the white. Awesome. Fabulous. Now not only was she alone, now she was who-knew-how far away from the mountain, AND she'd lost the pack with their supplies in it. Which had included her clothing. Nice.

Gradually she could move again, and she stood up, shaking her head until her ears flapped. She lost her balance a few times, shaking out her "stupid" paws and probably looking pretty un-catlike. Finally she stood unimpeded and let her tongue lol out in an even more un-catlike manner, partly to get the tingly, slightly unpleasant taste of magic out of her teeth and partly to better smell the air.

She was on a beach, obviously. Sand stretched out for miles in every direction she looked and the ocean lay before her like a giant, blue-green jewel. She'd seen this place from up on top of that first mountain, she suddenly remembered. But this was as far as she'd been able to see.

She looked behind her towards the forest and with an unhappy sound in the back of her throat saw that it had vanished. Where she had expected trees she now saw very boring looking dead grass and scrub bushes. Double great.

This sucked. Suck suck suck and more suck. Suxors times a million. Well, that did it, she'd wait HERE and see if Eric found her. She made herself a sandbed this time, and let her weight flop down with an annoyed huff. Really, what had she done to deserve this? All because she'd apologised personally to a Fae, something she'd known since childhood never to do, but damn it, she was usually polite to folks she didn't know. She always had to bite her tongue, too, not to say thanks to any of them. She always felt so rude. But it'd landed her in this mess. Lost somewhere in Underhill, with no guide or way to get herself out, on a beach.

A beach. There was water. Water meant different Fae, ones who liked the water. Where was the last book she'd read about water Fae who were ever nice? She thought back a minute. Selkies, Kelpies, the Merrow of course. Those were just archtypes, of course there were probably a handful she'd read of who just happened to favor the water as an element. But no, none of them had ever been "good guys".

She opened her mouth and let out a loud, frustrated roar, lashing her tail angrily. Damn it! Then her anger gave way to despair and the roar turned into a mournful, fussy sound, until finally she gave a keening whine, setting her chin on her paws. Frig.

She knew pouting wasn't going to help anything but she didn't know what ELSE to do, and she sure as hell wasn't going to stroll this beach as a human. Moreover, not a naked one. She remembered the story of Zues and whats-her-name, where Zues as a white bull had charged the girl down and raped her in the surf. She gave a shudder. She wasn't sure how much of ancient mythology had been malarky and how much had been mortals witnessing Fae events, but she wasn't chancing shit.

Then she thought of something. The merrow were annoying, and ugly to boot but she'd read somewhere that the males were usually a jovial, cheerful bunch. And Selkies COULD shed their sealskins and turn into humans. She'd also heard someone somewhere say that as far as magic went they weren't very heavy hitters. Maybe it wasn't all bad? She could probably find a stray Merrow and play the lost kitten again but look where THAT'D gotten her.

Almost as if company had been summoned, she noticed a very tall shadow standing behind her. She spun and came face to face with... yikes. Whoever it was, was naked and she'd just about-faced damn near into his, oh gods.

She backed up with a startled snarl, ears flattened and tail held low, and looked up at who had come to mess with her THIS time.

He was tall, but not as big as the forest lord had been. Yes, he was naked, but it didn't seem to really bother him, and he had wild, long hair that reached the back of his knees, blue and green. His flesh was a pale marble blue color that on anything else would've made him look like a corpse but his eyes were far too alive for that. They studied her with a chilly gaze, just... STANDING there.

Her tailtip twitched and she hissed. He smelled like seaweed and other water plants, but there were other things she couldn't quite place and it was better to err on the side of caution.

"What have they dumped on me THIS time," he spoke at last. A breeze picked up and his hair went nuts. A wild tendril of it brushed across her nose and she wrinkled her face up and backed up another step with a shake of her head. She figured since the water Fae she'd heard of hadn't included anything like this guy, he was probably one of the heavy hitters. Best to tread carefully.

He crouched down, but slowly. She tried to avert her gaze from what dangled between his knees as he did so, and kept an eye on his face. Then her eyes strayed again and she had to admit, damn. She shook her head again and licked the salt off her lips.

"A clouded leapord. On my beach. Curious," a small smile teased his lips. She couldnt see fang but she didn't doubt he had them. He reached a hand out to touch her. He had big palms and long, thin fingers. She backed up another step and kept an eye on that hand. He touched her head. That she normally didn't mind, when the person touching wasn't tingling with unspent magic.

She shook him off and snarled at him, baring fangs longer than any normal snow leapord. She sneezed, and then remembered she was supposed to be scaring him off. She hissed.

She expected him to be annoyed, not amused.

"I'm inclined to think you're not what you appear to be, Lost One," he remarked.

Well, shit.

She didn't know what to do in response to that one. She kept her face a blank.

He stood again and brushed the hair off his thin shoulders.

"Change back to your true form," he commanded. It wasn't a request she heard in his voice. It was a command. A gentle one, but a command nonetheless.

She lowered her head and made as sad a sound as she could manage with her leapord throat. Damn it all that she couldn't pout.

"If you insist on refusing, I can find ways to make you," he cajoled her.

She lowered her head onto the sand and rolled over, baring her belly. She didn't often assume the "i'm no threat to you" pose but if ever there were a time...

He wasn't swayed. He just stood there, in all his naked glory, like a statue while the wind swept his hair.

She figured she'd need to talk anyway. She focused on her human form. Skin, ten fingers, the little tattoo on her lower back that no one in her family knew she had. It was a leapord print. Original, she knew. She'd been drunk. The first to change was the fur. It began to vanish, being replaced by nothing and oh man this was going to suck, she was in SAND... she wasn't an oyster. But thankfully, her own skin slid over muscle again and there were sucking, popping sounds as her organs and bones rearranged themselves. Her head felt like it was being wrung through a pressure plate, until finally she felt her tongue ring again. It was the one thing she could never explain, that barbell.

Finally she crouched in the sand, a naked, very exposed human woman. She had never felt ashamed of her nudity, but in front of a strange, undeniably dangerous water Fae whose nature she could only guess at, and he was naked too... and that junk. Just, no.

Finally she stood, shifting a tad nervously. Her hair wasn't as heavy as his was; the breeze tore it all around her neck and shoulders.

"And what are you?" he asked. He was damn near two feet taller than she was.

She cleard her throat.

"Hghm... Wereleapord...," she replied.

At this, finally, he looked surprised. He bent over very slightly so they were face to very-close face. Up this close she saw that his face wasn't very human. It was slightly more elongated and pointed and his eyes, like those of the forest lord's, were a tiny bit too far apart and large to be wholly human. They were like shards of the deepest blue seaglass. He was beautiful, but she'd learned long ago not to trust that. When he spoke, she felt cold breath and smelled fish. He did indeed have fangs, tiny white points. There were a lot of them.

"Werecreatures are mortal. What are you doing in Underhill, mortal? How did you come to be here?" he asked.

It wouldn't be smart to outright lie to him, but she could try her hand at word salad to bend the truth a little, right?

She found some courage and stared right back at him. She took some pleasure in noting that as pretty as his eyes were, they were also cold, and hers were just as bright, if a different shade.

"A uh,... friend brought me over. We got seperated. I got lost," she said simply.

Shit! So much for lying... She always was a horrible liar.

"DID you now? And what was this friend's name?" he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow.

"How should I know? You guys never give out the real one, and you change them whenever the feeling strikes you, so what good would any name he gave me do you?" she asked. She wasn't snotty about it; she was just trying to be clever.

He blinked and straightened up again. He was quiet for awhile, just staring at her. She didn't miss him eyeballing her up and down. She also noticed that he was noticing his noticing.

"Don't fret, wereleapord. My tastes don't lean towards your kind," he folded his arms.

Well that was a relief. It was nice to know Otis the Wonderdong would never darken her proverbial doorways.

"So... who are you?" she finally got the gall to ask. She stopped being hesitant for all her nakedness and just stood there with her weight on one hip like she would if she were clothed. The cold ocean breeze had her nipples at attention and gooseflesh ran up and down her arms, but she ignored it all.

"Ah, any name I gave you would be false so what good would it do you?" he shot back at her. Okay, that had been a little snotty. She smirked.

"Touche. Just so you know, if you don't give me any name at all I'll just make one up, and it'll stick," she mock-cautioned him. She accompanied it with a grin. "I STILL call my friend "cupcake"," she snickered. Well that wasn't a total lie, she had once met a self-proclaimed Brownie who'd refused to give her any name at all...

She could see she was starting to irritate him at last.

"Perhaps I should throw you to the waters and let them claim you," he said coldly.

"You could... I don't think you will, or you'd have done it already. You know, I think I'll go with Cobalt. It beats 'cupcake'," she fingered her chin, eyeing him up and down.

He blinked. She caught a flash of momentary confusion, but then it was artfully blank again.

"...You're a strange one. Perhaps I'll just make you MY pet instead," he remarked.

"... or maybe you'll help a lost wereleapord find her lost ice elf friend?" she tried to correct him. Well it was worth a shot, she already expected him to say 'no'.

She wasn't aware he'd moved until he was on top of her, thankfully not literally. He had a hand around her throat, long fingers impossibly strong near the underside of her jaw. She froze. Even a top predator knows when they are outmatched.

He hissed, and suddenly wasn't so beautiful anymore. His pupils were slitted and his tongue was long and pointed. There were no wrinkles on his face as he growled at her. She felt his fingers tighten ever so much, could feel her breasts push against the cold, smooth flesh of his chest. It was just skin to skin contact, and if communications were spoken by intent than he intended to kill her.

"DO not try me, mortal, or you may find yourself my dinner," he hissed.

He wasn't lifting her off the sand but she was starting to have trouble breathing. She reached a hand up to break his grip on her neck and jaw and he grabbed it. She froze again. 

"Okay, okay... not trying, not trying, I'm done being a smartass," she cried uncle. She raised her free hand in surrender and very very slowly he released her neck. He still looked grumpy.

"You say your friend is an ice elf," he said finally. He looked as if he didn't agree with the term. Most Fae regarded the registration act as a joke, and to get around it, often made up "types" of Fae. She'd heard of everything from gremlin to boogeyman, whether they were real things or not.

"Yeah... Big guy. I lost him in the mountains and he told me to run. I ran right into a couple of forest Fae," she grumped. "Now I'm stuck here".

"Indeed," he hmm'd. She watched him. He seemed to be thinking.

She knew better than to outright ask him for a favor. It turned out she didn't have to.

"I will make a deal with you, wereleapord. I will help you insofar as I can to find your friend, if you share with me some information," he said.

Information, huh? They said information was worth more than money sometimes, she didn't doubt it.

"... What kind of information?" she asked.

He took a moment to answer. He waved a hand over the sand and it rose up at his beck and call, to form a sort of sandy throne. She watched, fascinated, as he sat down. That must be really uncomfortable, she thought as she watched him literally sit on his, gah why was she looking. She would never understand how guys tolerated that sort of thing.

"I don't often leave Underhill. This land is where I was born and it's where I will stay indefinitely until things improve," he said at last. "I want to know what your world is like after all these years" he said at last.

She breathed a sigh of relief and decided to sit cross-legged in the sand across from him. She thought about it a moment.

"So, in exchange for me answering your questions about the human realm, you'll help me find my friend to the best of your ability?" she summed it up. He nodded.

She breathed a sigh of relief at last and nodded.

"Deal. I'm not a genius but I'll tell you what I know," she agreed.

He nodded and seemed to think to himself.

"The last I was Overhill, it was a time of great famine for your kind. People were hungry and many men fished the seas around my home then. It was a time of new weapons and more and more of the Fae were being outwitted by the cold iron. What are things like now?" he asked.

She puzzled that over for a moment. It sounded like the middle ages to her, but she'd been wrong before. She thought on how to word her answer.

"Well I could list facts or I could be cynical and slip in personal opinions. We're still inventing new weapons and new technology but it's not what the everyman does. Iron isn't really used much anymore, steel is more common. It's stronger and.. I THINK cheaper to make," she stuck out her tongue to show him her tongue ring. He hissed, but he didn't move. She kept it up.

"Fashion has changed a lot. Women have equal political rights as the men. Famine isn't really a problem but you get starving homeless in pretty much every country you visit nowadays," she began ticking things off on her fingers. "I don't know much about where you came from or who you are or what it is you do, but I know Ireland is pretty much unoficially divided between two different branches of christianity. England and Scotland went at it for awhile and it's all now called the United Kingdom, though Scotland is still a thing. Don't ask," she shook her head with a confused look. "Germany and Russia pissed people off for awhile, but now they're both allies... I think," she added.

He held up a hand for her to stop, and she fell silent.

"What of the waters? Oceans and seas and rivers?" he asked.

She sighed, and thought back.

"Lot of people used dams and such to get power from the rivers, and I wouldn't recommend drinking from or even swimming in those. I flew over New York in a plane once. Er, big metal thing that flies people from place to place," she explained at the look on his face. "I couldn't tell the different between the brown of the land and the water around the place," she frowned. "I won't lie, there's a lot of water bodies that are so polluted they're finding fish with human ears and frogs with seven legs, where you can't even SEE the water anymore, but there are just as many groups dedicated to eradicating all the pollution. For everything bad that we've done to the place, there are just as many, if not more who are fighting to UNDO it," she told him. "But there's a lot of places that are still pretty pure and fresh, for the sake of tourism, or just because it's not easily accessible," she added.

He wanted to know quite a lot more besides all of that, the kinds of technology, like computers and calculators and airplanes and ipods. He wanted to know if their mating rituals had changed and if there had been any more great battles. She told him all about what she knew, the world wars, aerodynamics, the guiltless moneygrubbers that had taken over Macintosh after Bill Gates died, iPods, dating, sexual dynamics, all while slipping in informative little opinions on her own.

"What of the rumors I hear about the werewolves? Is that all true?" he asked at last. It was starting to get darker, she noticed, but she had pretty good night vision.

She nodded.

"They came out just a couple of years ago," she replied. "As far as I know, the other Weres like me are keeping out of the spotlight until things with the wolves die down, or so I heard," she replied.

At last, at long last, he decided he'd heard enough, and stood up.

She got to her own feet, dusting sand off her butt and the backs of her thighs, shivering slightly as the temperature dropped and a chill breeze blew her hair around. She looked up at him with her arms folded over her breasts to keep warmer.

"I'm satisfied with the information you've given me. It's a lot to think on. Now I think I owe you a favor in return. I may forget I found a mortal in Underhill if you carry a message to your friend for me," he smiled at last.

She looked at him suspiciously.

"What's that?" she asked.

"If your ice elf friend is who I suspect he is, tell him his business is folly," he smiled.

So this guys must know what Eric was going to Norway to do. And she didn't. THAT made her feel included.

"Done," she sighed.

He turned into the wind so she got a nice view of his backside, where his hair wasn't covering it, and he did something with the wind. She felt the magic wash off of him, and backed off a step.

"I will lend you my horse. He will take you towards any destination or person your heart desires, but you must tell him, or he'll take you beneath the waves," he said.

"Kelpie?" she asked, suddenly nervous.

He laughed, a chilling sound.

"No. Just a horse of the Fae variety. Also, do not look him in the eyes. He dislikes cats, and your eyes give you away," he advised her.

Up the beach came a large, graceful white stallion with a silver-braided bridle and beautiful seashells entwined with the rope and its mane. She remembered his advice, and lowered her eyes to the sand, and its hooves. They were big as dinner plates. It didn't sound much like a horse.

Cobalt said something to it, and before she knew it, his hands were around her hips and he was lifting her onto his back.

"Whoah!" she cried in surprise. She'd never been on a horse in her life.

She looked down at him, and he nodded to her.

"Remember. Tell him what you want to find, and he'll do his best, and don't look him in the eyes. And tell your friend his business-"

"-is folly, I got it. Th-I mean, see you around," she caught herself quickly.

He narrowed his eyes at her again.

"You want to watch how you conduct yourself in the future. So far you've been lucky. Someone else may decide you aren't worth the trouble of your smart mouth, and eat you," he said shrewdly. He said a word, and the horse started off down the beach at a breakneck speed.

She grabbed the reins just in time, and found that horseback riding hurt. No wonder they all walked like they'd messed their pants, she wondered.

"Find Eric! Ymir!," she remembered the other name he'd given her. Perhaps it'd be needed, and just to make absolute sure, she kept his image in her mind. Maybe it'd help, who knew.

Hooves thundered down the beach and it took her a moment to realize, it really WAS thunder she was hearing. Every other hoofbeat to hit the sand was like thunder and she could smell ozone. He must be one hell of a powerful Fae, if not a Grey Lord, than a close second. Ocean tides and storms weren't pool toys.

The ocean flew by in a blur and as it got darker, she held on tighter, murmering Eric's names under her breath and keeping his face in her mind in case the horse forgot. She tried to rotate her hips and belly muscles in time with the horses movements, to relieve some of the jostling and stress of riding for the first time in her life, kind of like she used to do on mountain bikes as a kid. It didn't help much.

In the distance she could see the mountains again, and finally the forest once more. Would the horse just take her back up there? She was human at the moment, she didn't think her skin, thick as it was, could take that bonechilling cold again. She needn't have worried, though. They were nearing a cliff face that turned into a towering jagged mountain in its own right. At the top was what seemed to be a stone cottage and at the bottom, waves crashed against spiky outcroppings of stone. Moss and tidepools littered the beach here but she could smell something odd, and both familiar, and there was a strange lightening to the air near one of those jagged rocks...

Before she could stop it, the horse veered a sharp right, directly towards the ocean. It was dark, and the ocean looked black now, waves crashing up on the sand. It wasn't pretty anymore; on the contrary, riding towards it at breakneck speed it was terrifying.

"No! Find Eric, Ymir! Ymir!" she yelled, but the horse ignored her. It was headed right for the surf.

With a crash, it dove in, and the icy spray shocked her to the core. If she'd thought the snow was cold, compared to this the snow was a beach in Miami. It shocked her too much to move, but after a moment she saw sense and went to jump. She couldn't. Her rear end seemed to be glued to the horses back and she couldn't tug her fingers free of the seashell-and-silver-encrusted reins. The sound of the water pounded in her ears, her skin turned icy and she screamed "YMIR!" as loud as she could before her head went under.

She could only hold her breath.


	10. Reunion

CHAPTER TEN

Frozen needles of pain lanced through her skull the moment the water washed over her face. The waves that had looked so peaceful had been a deception; they hid a vicious strength that not even a horse should've been able to withstand but it seemed the thunderhorse she was now stuck riding was no ordinary horse. It gave a fierce shriek of a whinny that carried like a crack of thunder and surged forward deeper in.

She swallowed a mouthful of seawater and coughed, choking, as it began to rain. The waters grew rougher and she felt them going in deeper, this was the last place in Fairyland she wanted to be. It was up to her neck now, the horse was swimming instead of walking, she had to hold her head up high, she couldn't go out like this, no way in hell, but then she saw that the thunderhorse wasn't headed out to deep waters. He was swimming towards the jagged rocks at the base of the cliff. Well that wasn't much better, honestly, not with the way the waves were sucking them in and throwing them back out.

She thumped the thing on the shoulder and yelled at it. "What's wrong with you? I didn't say let's go swimming, did I!?" she screamed to be heard and was thanked with another bellyfull of seawater. "You're worse than a GPS!" she yelled.

The horse seemed to be ignoring her, and thunder seared across their heads with a deafening crack-boom so loud she could hear it over the pounding surf. They were headed right for the rocks! They stood out inky-black and stationary, and she lowered herself to the horses back and held her breath. With any luck the horse would dash itself and spare her. But she needn't have worried. She saw pretty soon enough that the lightening she had seen around the base of the rocky shoal cliff turned out to be some kind of light source within a shallow cavern just above water level and it was here the horse was headed to.

She suddenly decided she could forgive the horse. Mostly.

"YES! Yes, come on, come on, there!" she cajoled it. She had never ridden a horse in her life, but she thought she knew how to do it. Nudge its sides with the knee opposite of where you wanted to go and dig in your heels to go forward. She pulled back on the reins and nudged him to the right, towards a relatively flat bed of rock, and the thunderhorse started swimming towards it. Not half bad, now if only there were a camera. A naked chick riding a thunderhorse through fairyland would make a hot poster, she thought.

The animal pulled itself and her out of the raging sea and stood unmarred on the rocky bed below the cavern, and she let herself relax for a moment. He seemed to have reached her destination and come to a stop. Now what? Could she get off of it now?

She swung a leg over and across its broud back, and slid off. Her bare feet hit the rough rock and the horse swung his head around on his long neck to look at her. She quickly fixed her eyes on its powerfully-muscled chest and reached a hand out to pet it regardless.

"Well done horse, but next time skip the storm, huh? Go on, get!" she gave its hind end a slap that wouldn't have hurt it.

The thunderhorse gave a whinny and threw itself into the raging waters. She looked for where it went, but he seemed to have disappeared. Mysterious.

Now she was naked, blue, shivering, standing on a stretch of rock in Underhill while a storm raged around her. But had the horse truly brought her back to Eric?

She turned around and looked up above her head. The cavern she'd seen was probably five feet above her head and she saw no hand or footholds in the rough rock.

"ERIC!" she tried yelling. "YMIR!"

She tried in vain to climb and only succeeded in slicing the palm of one hand open on a nest of barnacle-like crustaceans that she hadn't seen before. It was pretty deep and blood oozed.

"Fuck," she muttered.

"ERIC!" She tried again.

A wave washed up and overtook her, getting her more wet than she thought she'd ever been in her entire life, and she had to brace her legs so it didn't wash her back out towards the sea. She felt about to overbalance, when she felt... fingers on her forehead, giving her a gentle push back towards the safety of the flat rock. She blinked through the water in confusion and could swear she saw the watery outline of a woman in the water... but then it was gone as the wave crashed back down, and hands were picking her up and dragging her backwards into a well-lit cavern cut into the cliff.

He didn't say a word but he set her down by a blazing fire and thrust several rough towels around her, rubbing her arms to try and warm her up, but nevermind all that, she threw herself on him and gave him a very grateful, naked, cold wet hug.

It took him by surprise, but gradually he relaxed, and patted her back.

"I thought I was so screwed, and I couldn't backtrack, forest fairies found me, and then that guy on the beach...," she started.

"Hush, warm yourself and you can tell me all about it," he said kindly, and she finally let him go with an embarassed sort of look, and sat back down.

He'd made a nice little camp, and she saw with some relief that her leapord harness sat off to one side, drying by the fire. He'd laid blankets out at a safe distance from it so they didn't need to sit on bare rock and a sort of cooking apparatus was set up over the flames. Her stomach growled at the smell of food, she hadn't realized it but she was starving.

She wrapped those towels around herself tight and just grinned.

He caught sight of her face across the way, his beard and hair wet and tangled and his white-blue eyes bright in his face and he smiled back, somewhat bemusedly.

"So tell me everything," he said, and she did.

"You said to run so... well, I did," she began. She chronicled her trek all the way to the forest, and then described her meeting with the two forest fae, explaining why she'd left the pack the way she had. She told him about being taken to the beach after much unamusing deliberation. When she started to describe Cobalt, the Fae she'd talked to on the beach, he stoppped her.

"Was he naked?" he asked.

She barked a laugh. "Oh yeah, very," she snickered. Eric didn't look very amused.

"Do you have any idea who that was?" he asked, as if she should know. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

His expression grew dark but he didn't elaborate. "A very powerful and very dangerous Fae who rarely leaves Underhill but there are plenty of stories about him from your world. Stories of everything from drowning hapless beachgoers to rape. I'm surprised he was so kind to you," he said.

She blanched and after a moment started to ring her hair out, letting the towels fall. The fire warmed her front side and she made a face.

"Well... I guess I'm surprised too, considering I ... KINDA mouthed off to him...," she blushed sheepishly.

Eric shook his head and rubbed at one temple.

"You shouldn't have done that, you know...," he sighed.

She grinned. "Not even to the best part yet". She kept talking, explaining the deal he'd struck with her, his horse for her information, and she told him about her wild stormy gallop across the sand. He seemed surprised that the fae had loaned her his own horse.

"He's never done that in all the years I've known him," he remarked, blinking in surprise. "I think perhaps he took a liking to you,".

She laughed.

"Yeah, that's me, sarcasm and cynicism all wrapped up in charisma and comedy, makin' friends everywhere I go," she grinned. He managed to chuckle along with her, and took the kettle off the fire. It wasn't made of iron, but silver, and he handed her a bowl of something white and saucy and chunky. She was so hungry she wouldn't have cared if it looked like vomit. It turned out to be loaded potato chowder with chunks of yeti meat, and for awhile he just watched her eat. She hadn't thought he made that much, but it must've been some kind of enchantment because the food seemed never to disappear. She must've downed at least three bowls of the stuff before slowing it down.

"Heh... was starving," she grinned. "This is amazing,".

He bowed his head in aknowledgement of her unspoken thanks and then handed her something. Curious, she held a hand out. It was her pentagram necklace. She gratefully slipped it back over her head and gave him a genuinely warm smile that she felt reach her eyes.

"You've no idea how much this necklace means to me... If I was dumb enough to thank you I would," she teased him. He grinned.

"You're learning, I see".

She rolled her eyes. "Better late than never. So did I leave any trail at all?" she asked.

He was quiet for a moment as he packed away the cooking things, leaving only a bowl of food for himself behind before he answered.

"Well, I made it down the mountain with no problems. At the bottom I saw your paw prints all over the place and found the harness and your necklace. I began making my way towards the beach. I know my way through that forest," he added at the look on her face. "Eventually I came across the same two Fae you mentioned. I am friendly with them even though his beneficial moods are only occasional. He said he brought you to the beach, and so here I am. I never expected you to show up riding a Stormhorse," he grinned. Apparently he was impressed.

She laughed. "Stormhorse sounds more impressive than Thunderhorse. I wish I had a camera, I must've looked pretty badass, and I've never even ridden horses before," she agreed.

They were quiet for a moment more as she let him eat his food and turned her back on him and the fire so the flames could warm up the side of her that was still cold and damp. Okay, and yeah she wanted to inconspicuously warm her butt, too, but she wasn't about to make it that obvious.

"You have a lovely tattoo," he remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

Said tattoo was pretty far down her back, where a tramp stamp should be, just a leapord paw print, so he'd been looking. She turned around and decided she could live with the fire warming up her front half instead. She was blushing.

"I was drunk about a year ago, and thought I'd be clever," she groaned. There was a twinkle in his eye as he laughed. It was good laughter, she thought. Perhaps absence made the ... well, not heart, but whatever grow fonder?

"Do you Fae keep tattoos or body modifications then?" she shot back.

He gave a noncommitted shrug.

"Some do. But then you know we can change our appearance however and whenever we want," he smiled. "But this is my true form,".

She studied him anew for a moment and nodded.

"Not bad for a centuries old man," she stuck her tongue out at him.

He sighed and stoked the fire with a small shake of the head.

"You know, there was a time I would have cut your tongue out of your head for that...," he said almost whistfully. But she caught him smiling when he thought she wasn't looking.


	11. Burning memories

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was pitch black outside and the storm was still raging in full when she remembered the other thing that the Sea Fae had told her to do. She had her sleeping bag unrolled and was nude inside it, her head resting on its built-in pillow.

She rolled over towards Eric, and reached out to tap him on the shoulder. The cavern they were in was smaller than the ice cave from before. There was room for them, their things, a small fire, and naught else.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, rolling to face her.

"I forgot to tell you that the sea Fae told me to tell you that... your business in Norway is folly," she said at last.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes betraying nothing. The fire hadn't quite died down yet, so it cast small flickering shadows over his face and beard.

"Sorry, it's just what he said to tell you..," she shrugged.

"No, no I got it. Let's just say he and I don't often see eye to eye," he grumbled. "Forget about it, and sleep. We shoud be ready to leave Underhill by tomorrow evening," he said, and he rolled over again without another word.

For a moment she wondered if she should've said anything, he didn't seem to be happy with the message. How was she supposed to know they didn't get along? Now he was probably mad at her... she sighed and insisted on closing her own eyes in sleep. Maybe it meant nothing and he'd forget about it in the morning.

She didn't sleep for long. The sounds of the storm and the waves crashing was unbelievably soothing, so it wasn't what had her awake while it was still dark, it was Eric.

She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. She estimated they'd been sleeping for a couple of hours at least. The fire was out, but by the occasional flicker of lightning outside, she could see his form, huddled in his own sleeping bag. He was dreaming, tossing and turning. She hadn't known the Fae could have dreams, let alone nightmares. Perhaps they weren't so different after all.

She would've gone back to sleep if he hadn't flung a spell at her. He muttered something only half intelligible and she could feel the tingle of it seeping towards her... she rolled out of the way and the place where she'd just been erupted in icicles. He hadn't meant it, he was asleep and dreaming, she told herself. It hadn't been directed at her.

She took a second to get over her own worries, and slipped out of her sleeping bag to see if she could wake him up. By now she was pretty unmindful and unabashed about her nudity. She should've brought clothes, she hadn't, oh well.

She knelt beside him and watched him for a moment. He was muttering in his sleep. Most of it was in Nordic but she caught a few words in English. "No," and "I can't," and "please don't".

She didn't know if it would help or not, but she gave his shoulder a gentle shake to wake him up, but he ignored it. She shook a little harder, and same result. Finally she decided to see if she could just calm him down. She sat beside his head and gently started stroking his hair back from his face, making soothing sounds and whatnot. It was oddly intimate but it seemed to work on her niece back home when she had nightmares. She decided right then to never tell him that. He might think it was condescending.

While she smoothed his platinum hair back and tried to sooth whatever dream he was trapped in, she took notice to a few things. She liked him despite his sometimes-gruff personality. He had a small streak of caring that she didn't think he was aware he had. Or maybe from his dream he WAS aware. His skin was softer than it looked and smooth as marble and despite the beard, his face was mostly young. She knew he was ancient. Eventually she started to rather enjoy touching him despite herself and his mutterings seemed to subside. He stopped fussing about after a moment and his face seemed to relax into a better sleep-face. She kept the stroking and soothing up for a few moments more, and then slipped back into her own sleeping bag. It wasn't as cold here as back in the mountains but egads that sleeping bag was amazing.

She had no reason to suspect that the last few moments she sat there stroking his hair back that he was awake, and contemplating on it.

MEANWHILE...

While Ramona and Eric slept the night away in Underhill, back in Michigan things were what one might call "underfoot"

"Are you sure this madness will even work?" snapped the man in the ripped t-shirt. He had tangled, long blonde hair and a five o clock shadow. There was a certain... not-right-ness to him.

He and his companion were standing in a dark basement morgue on the dead side of town, where a lone corpse lay upon a table. It had been, moments before, a peculiar Fae with a knack for finding lost things. Part of a breed, in fact.

The eyes of his "friend" glowed a vicious yellow from the shadows. He was not like the man in the ripped t-shirt, whose eyes more favored orange. But the orange eyed one had blackmail hanging over this one's head and if it meant they must work together than so be it. The yellow eyed man passed a syringe to his t-shirted "friend" and he injected the dead Fae woman with something dark and vile looking. As soon as her eyes shot open, dead and white, with a snarl, he began to eat her.

UNDERHILL...

The calm of morning was beautiful here as opposed to the mountains or even the forest. The ocean glittered outside under a cheerful looking sun and the sky was a pure forget-me-not blue. Back home it'd be the prefect day for beachcoming, but Eric had said they would make it to Norway by the day's end if they started out early, so she Changed.

He was still asleep. She padded over with big fuzzy paws and gently batted at his shoulder with one of them. When that didn't work, she licked his face like a cat would lick a bowl of milk.

"Alright, enough, I'm up," he grumbled, and she backed away to let him sit up at last. She gave him the best smile she could in her cat body. His bedhead was most amusing.

"Hush," he frowned, and he went about dressing. She sat back and watched him. She knew they could make themselves look however they wanted to, but assuming he wasn't playing any glamour tricks, all she could think was oh my. He wasn't as scary-looking as the sea Fae had been but all the same, ... look on, sister.

He caught her staring and she gave him that smile again before chuffing and sniffling at the pack they'd designed out of tiedown straps.

"You're awfully playful this morning," he remarked with half a smile. He went down on one knee to fasten the thing about her ribs and chest, and then surprised her by taking her head in both hands and looking straight at her. This wasn't a good idea with most predators, but she wasn't so uptight about such challenges.

"You are an interesting person, Ramona Dunbar," he finally sighed. He gave her ears a scritch and stood again, scattering the remains of the fire and shouldering his own bags.

She didn't wag her tail, exactly, but despite how the leapord in her hated the water, she bounded out of the cave and down onto the rocks a few feet below. She yowled at him to hurry up, and decided to gambol around in a playful circle on the beach until he finally caught up with her. Thankfully, there was no sign of the Sea Fae.

"One would think you were happy to be traveling with me again," he smirked as he hopped over the last jagged rock and back onto the sand. She barked a playful sound at him that made him laugh. "That is the first time I've heard a leapord try to impersonate a dog. Come on, then. We head toward the Burning Lands. I don't much like the place for obvious reasons, and I gather you won't either, but it's the fastest way towards our destination," he explained.

She flattened her ears back. The burning lands? Sounded like a hot volcanic sort of place. Underhill sure wasn't lacking in "interesting".

"You want to keep especially close to me while we're there, Ramona. It'll be a lot more inhabited and many of them are unfriendly," he warned her. She reached up with her head and nudged his hand in a comforting sort of "I'll do as you say" gesture.

She hadn't said anything to him about his nightmare the previous night, and she definitely hadn't told him how she managed to calm him down, but the memory wouldn't leave her brain. She didn't know much about his past except what he'd told her willingly but she was willing to bet that it was the reason he was going back to Norway. And he wasn't happy about it.

As they walked, she burned off excess energy by running in little circles either around or ahead of him, stopping every few minutes to look back and make sure he was following her. Once she decided to stalk a sand crab with antennae and convinced it to hide under the sand and a couple of seals nearby watched her with curious intensity that didn't belong to any seals she'd ever heard of. Selkies, must be. She decided to try and play with one of them next. She felt Eric's careful eyes on her as she engaged the bigger of the two, who agreed to a little game of "chase the cat away". It became obvious that she was in no danger from the shapeshifting Fae, although the selkie's companion found their antics boring.

She thought she was amusing Eric on their long trek across the beach and that was a good thing. She was surprised to find she liked it when he smiled and he might not like whyever they were going to Norway but damn it if she could make the trip a fun one, so be it.

Once they were past the Selkies she got bored again and the sand beneathher paws was getting hot so she decided to trot in the damp sand that the occasional wave came up and cooled off. She was careful around here, no telling what lurked just off the shallows watching and waiting. She saw bubbles about six feet out and a lump of something that looked like kelp surface, and she quickly hitailed it back to Eric's side. Kelp didn't bubble. She gave a nervous little yowl.

"Hush, Ramona, it's just a Kelpie. Nasty, but nothing I can't handle," he assured her.

She didn't stray so far after that.

The beach sand began to gradually give way to something like gravel, which made way for some kind of black, coarse rocky dirt. Really it was like black sand. Volcanic, by the smell of it. It had gotten gradually warmer, too... it was the strangest thing. She stopped at a peculiar spot in her surroundings. Beneath her feet, black volcanic sand and to her left, ocean waves. Just a few steps ahead of her, the ocean simply ended. Oceans didn't just END, but clearly this one did. In its place was scrub and dead trees, tarpits and in the distance, several volcanoes.

Eric had gotten about a dozen steps away from her and she remembered what he'd said. She ran to catch up with him and immediately wished she could walk around as a human. Her fur was meant for the cold and it had suddenly shot up a good fourty degrees. She quickly started to pant, and kept pace with her friend, who was silent so far. She nudged him in the butt with the flat part of her head and he looked down at her, stopping for a moment.

"What is it?" he asked.

She decided to sit down, shaking her head out and panting in a distinctly catlike way. She looked over towards the volcano, back to him, and then back to the volcano, as if to say "we go there?".

He got her meaning.

"Not quite. Once we get to the base of that volcano we should come out in Norway, fairly close to where I need to be. There will be a small village, or there was last I was there. We shouldn't be long here, I hope," he sighed. He reached back and plucked a canteen off of his pack and offered it to her. She gave him a pointed look.

He smiled, and let the water stream out of it and she tilted her head in a comical sort of fashion and lapped at it like a dog might. He must have found it amusing because he was grinning.

That task done, she kept close beside him. Tar pits weren't the only thing. The further on they went she could see magma pools and rock that burned a hot red. The very ground beneath her paws was far too warm and somewhere in the distance she heard a steam geyser. This place was aptly named. She was watching a small brush fire beside a copse of thick, gnarled looking black trees and swore she saw dancing fireballs. They were so enticing, dancing from branch to branch spreading fire as they went... she hadn't realized she was wandering towards it until there was a sharp jerk on her harness that dragged her two feet back, and Eric snapped his fingers in her face. She shook her head and lowered it to the ground as an apology, before walking on his other side from then on. She hadn't realized the flame fairies were bespelling her until he yanked her back.

"I wouldn't fall for any tricks if I were you. Some folk here can read minds as well as books. You might see things that aren't real. So might I, for that matter," he sighed.

She didn't know about all that... mind-reading? She'd never heard of Fae who could read minds, even humans, those most mundane of industrious little mortals had brains that were more than just a book to read.

She promised herself she'd keep an eye out. She thought of home, back in Maine, what friends she had, her computer. All before getting mixed up with the Fae. She regretted nothing but this place made her leery.

"Mona! Mona, where are you?" called a voice.

Ramona knew that voice. It belonged to her best friend Zoey, a Wereseal she hadn't seen in months since she moved to Oregon. They'd grown up together, friends based on one thing at first. She turned into a leapord, Zoey, a leapord seal.

She paused a moment despite Eric's warning, and saw her about five yards away, a slightly heavyset woman with choppy red hair and green eyes all dressed in grey. She looked as she usually did, she sounded like Zoey, but what was Zoey doing here in Underhill?

"Trickery," Eric reminded her. "Who is that?" he asked.

She shook her head at him. She would tell him later.

The Imposter Zoey followed them for a few steps before Ramona lost sight of her and when she looked back she saw a different woman, this one human with long, coarse dark hair and pale skin all dressed in furs that looked truly ancient. She was holding a baby and yelling in Norse at Eric, clutChing the child to her almost painfully. The child wasn't moving. Ramona looked at Eric to see how he was taking it, whatever it meant, and saw that his jaw was clenched and he was deliberately not looking at the mother and child.

"Rrrrrrgh," she grumbled and headthunked him in the thigh again to let him know she was there. He tangled his fingers in the thick ruff of fur along the side of her neck in thanks.

All the way to the halfway mark the Imposter Fae followed them, changing into some people she knew (including her mother, who accused her of being a horrible burden of a daughter, something her real mother would never do) and some she didn't. The ones she didn't recognize either spoke entirely in Norse, or not at all. One of them had been a child not much older than the baby the woman had carried. Disturbingly, he had shaken himself, as if being throttled by invisible hands, and snapped his own neck. It was a truly creepy, disturbing thing to watch a child do that to himself.

"Rest here. Change back if you can," he sighed and set his pack down against a rocky outcropping. Some kind of six legged salamander darted out from between the cracks and hissed at him before scampering away into a nearby lava pool.

She could certainly do that, her fur was sticking out in all the wrong ways and she longed for bare skin. She was too focused on the Change, so she didn't notice the silent tears in Eric's beard until she was fully human again. Naked, she undid the harness she still wore and set it beside Eric's, sitting beside him. It wasn't as hot as a human as it'd been as a cat. Now it just felt like a very hot July in Maine.

"Who was that woman with the baby?" she asked softly.

He didn't answer for a moment, so she put a gentle hand on his arm to remind him that she wouldn't let it go. He glowered at her. She smirked at him.

"You don't scare me, Mr. Abominable," she teased him.

He sighed, though she thought she saw the ghost of a smile in that scraggy blonde beard.

He took a deep breath, made himself comfortable and talked.

"I told you I used to participate in the Wild Hunt. It wasn't a lie. I met and bred with a human woman I came across, and she bore a son who was half Fae. We hadn't come out back then, and there was still very real fear of us among those who believed we existed. The woman, Enya, was no exception. She was afraid of me, and then she was furious once she saw that our son could wield magic. Out of fear and spite, I think, she killed him when he was two."

Ramona had no idea what to say to that, but it explained a lot. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze and leaned her head on his shoulder no matter what he thought.

"That's horrible. I know not all Fae feel the same about their kids as human parents do, but still," she said softly.

"I loved my son," he admitted. He touched her hand with the one arm she wasn't preoccupied with and she worked up enough daring to wipe a tear out of his beard. She smiled a little.

"That screaming woman was my mother. She'd never say such horrible things about me, but I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought them myself. And the lady with the red hair was my best friend Zoey. She turns into a leapord seal," she smiled.

"You are a very interesting person, Ramona," he said again.

"I know. I like you too," she smirked.

Just then the Mimic Fae, once again transformed into the screaming lady with the baby, started speaking in English, her eyes a fiery red.

"Yes, and he'll say he loves you just like he did me, and then he'll ruin your life!" she spat.

Ramona growled low in her throat and flung a rock at the entity. The glamour fell right away as the rock struck her dead center and what stood in her place was a gangly thing with bright orange skin and yellow eyes that were too small, and a mouthfull of needle teeth. It shrieked at them and ran off, and she looked back at Eric.

He just looked tired.

"It's why I'm going back to Norway," he admitted finally. "The woman found some way to survive the ages untouched. I'm traveling north to find out how, and to put her to rest,".

She nodded in understanding.

"If you're tired after an hour or so walking, dealing with that THING, I can't imagine how a human who's lived that long feels. And the past is behind you. It'll be good to get it gone," she agreed.

Eric stared at her.

"Most humans would have balked at the idea of killing," he reminded her.

She smiled.

"Most humans are shallow minded and over-ethical, convinced that all life is precious. But life has to end SOMEtime for us mere mortals," she shrugged.

He sat up straighter and ran his fingers through his beard, thinking or so it seemed.

"I did say I loved her, once. And then she found out what I was, what I am. I would say it ruined her life," he said at last.

She stood up and put a hand on the back of his shoulder.

"I know how that feels, trust me. Only it wasn't so much "ruin" as "lied to and dumped," she admitted.

"Well, I would call you a friend now. I'm not opposed to romance nowadays, but we'll have time to talk about such things when this is all done and over with," he nodded.

"You were dreaming lastnight," she said.

He nodded.

"I know. I felt you,".

"You have very soft skin," she said randomly.

He huffed a single laugh and handed her the canteen, which she took a better drink from this time.

"Do you mind going on foot for a little while, clothes as you are?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Long as you can promise no one in this area is known for raping random human passerby, I'm good with it," she shook her head. He frowned. "Not that I've ever heard of," he replied.

"Cool! So what are we waiting for? Let's go interrogate your ex girlfriend," she smiled.

"Your eagerness is disturbing,".


	12. Fireside Romance

This one has some pretty graphic "romantic" content, so reader be warned.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

The Mimic Fae didn't bother them for long after that. It seemed to think that nake ladies who threw rocks weren't worth the trouble, and she was glad for it, because as a human there was a lot that she couldn't resist as well.

Like those beautiful dancing fire sprites off in the distance that made her feel so relaxed and at peace...her mind swam serenly until Eric jerked her out of it yet again.

"Eyes forward?" he suggested. But since he was walking in front of her, that meant all she'd have to stare at was his butt. While she wouldn't have a problem with this, it did tend to distract. She told him so with a smirk.

"Women," he muttered.

"I heard that,".

"Good," she could hear him smile.

She decided to ignore his advice and walk beside him as close as she was comfortable with. She tugged her harness off his back as they trod the rough volcanic sands and insisted on buckling herself into it again, even if it did accentuate her breasts like some weird fetish freak. Not her fault leapords didn't have them.

"I came along with you to repay a favor, not make you do all the work," she insisted.

He didn't say anything in return, but just walked on in silence. More Mimics began to follow them and suddenly they were being hounded on every side by screaming, wailing, cursing and death from women, men, children and even a few animals. One of them turned into a giant tarantula with exaggerated fangs and charged toward her at one point and she lost her head completely and took off at a sprint, screaming. She wasn't a screamer.

When she turned back at last it was to see Eric in his War Form, a great melted-looking thing with the same silvery eyes and mouthful of teeth, shedding snow wherever he went. He was busily enjoying ripping the mimics to pieces and for a moment she just watched. It was both scary as hell and a little bit of a turn on. Damn was he big. And oddly pretty despite the squashed looking face. Must be the snow.

He caught up with her eventually, still as the hulking snowy beast, and she unabashedly wrapped an arm around his massive one. She looked up with a grin despite him and said, "that does it. You are officially my favorite snow elf,".

He shifted back to his more normal form, the one she'd become accustomed to. Tall, broudshouldered, bearded and ageless-looking.

"How many snow elves have you met?" he insisted with feigned surprise.

That made her laugh, arm in his, and she fell away eventually.

"Hey the next time something bothers us can I have a go, or would the powers that be consider it an act of war or something?" she smirked.

He frowned.

"Normally I'd say go for it, but you never know who's watching or listening. Someone may," he replied.

She kicked at a rock that just barely stubbed her toe and huffed. "Figures".

The closer they got to the volcano, the hotter it got. Magma pools outnumbered tar pits and the flame fairies weren't so numerous. She could see glimpses of what looked like tall, slender humanoids far off the beaten track, some playing in the magma, others watching them with intentful, onyx-colored eyes. Their ears were pointed and their skin was pale, hair the color of fire. There were four of them paying careful attention as they walked. Finally curiosity overcame her.

"Eric? What are these things?" she asked.

"Something gets lost in translation. Think of them as sort of dryads, but for the magma. They watch the Ways in and out of the mortal realm through the Burning Lands. I'd consider them lesser Fae, except in packs like this they're tricky. Don't make eye contact, and don't stray too near the magma pools," he warned.

She kept her eyes resolutely forward, on the volcano, and tried to pretend the magma dryads weren't there, but she could hear them muttering. Nothing she understood. It sounded something like Norse, except not quite.

Eric heard them too, because he raised his voice so it would carry and yelled something in the same language. It didn't sound very nice, but she caught a name. Wolfkiller.

They seemed to know it, and shrank back to let them pass. There it was, just ahead of them, but by now it was so hot that there wasn't a dry place anywhere on her body. Her thighs were slick with sweat and her breasts felt disgusting, she didn't smell that bad, but she did smell a little. She wrinkled her nose and glanced at Eric. He wasn't faring much better, though the cold snowy smell was stronger. She didn't mind it. Snow would be welcome right about then.

"Not much farther ahead now...," he panted. "I'm going to shift back to my other form. I can't speak so well with it, so have patience," he cautioned her, and like a shimmering curtain fall, snow rained from his head to his feet and where he once stood was the towering, ten-foot tall snow beast. She felt very small beside him, but also a little safe. He was the biggest thing around at the moment and the cold radiating off of him felt amazing.

He did something with his hands, and the air in front of them shimmering... a BLAST of icy wind penetrated through the veil he'd opened and she suddenly shivered. All the sweat on her body turned to steam and dried up in what felt like a minute and suddenly she was freezing. She was going to pay for this later, she just knew it. Cold medicine, flue medicine, she made a mental note to stock up.

A huge hand grabbed hers, engulfing her arm nearly to the elbow and she thought it best to follow him lest she wind up armless. Norway here I come!

She leapt through, preparing herself for anything, and felt them both drop about a foot. She landed badly and skidded in the cold white stuff. It numbed places that ought never be numb, that was for sure, and her feet were throbbing in a minute. She looked up at him and shook her head.

"Screw this, I can't!" she yelled to be heard, and she began the Change again. The pain in her feet and backside doubled as bones shifted and skin melted, and finally that thing she'd wanted all along, fur. Thick, fluffy, warm fur.

She shook herself out and took a moment to shiver and let herself warm up a little, before sending a nod Eric's way.

"Best if you call me Ymir here," he grunted. His words were a little slurred, garbled almost, but she understood them. She figured here that was what he was known as. Eric or Ymir, he was the same person, so whatever he insisted upon was fine with her. So long as he didn't start calling her Ra, something Zoey did often. No sun god was she.

They had come out on the side of a hill overlooking a small town. She could see a McDonalds. Seriously, this far up in the hills of Norway, they had a MickeyD's? It shouldn't have surprised her. There were houses, obviously, though nothing like the ones she was used to. Long, low flat buildings that could've been warehouses or storage facilities, a school or two. It was about the size of her hometown in Maine, she thought.

He kept to his battle form as he led her up the hills. These weren't mountains... looking back she saw they'd skipped them somehow, thank the Goddess.

She stood for a moment looking around. The hills were blanketed in crystalline frost and above them, the skies were overcast. Snow fell in beautiful thick, white, fluffy flakes. The town below seemed quiet. This was Overhill, her world, just Norway, not Washington where they'd started. No big deal. She had to remind herself she wasn't in Fairyland anymore.

"Come," said the gruff voice, and she trotted to catch up to him. He was making his own footprints disappear with the snow he was shedding. She walked beside him to avoid getting snowed on, excited now that she knew they were closing in on their destination. She wondered for a moment why he hadn't just taken a plane, she'd seen a little airport in the town. Maybe he didn't like to fly. Some Fae were old school like that. But then it occured to her, planes were made of metal and the Fae hated iron. It made them weak.

Higher and higher they climbed, and she noticed a rough path of sorts hewn through the snowy hillsides closer to town. It looked like someone from the town was spending important time out here in no man's land. She kept close to Eric, or Ymir's feet, snow showering her in crystal flakes every other step or so. The hills were pretty nondescript but she was nervous for some reason. It wasn't that they were headed towards a human who had somehow discovered immortality, and it wasn't because it was Ymir's estranged wife or girlfriend or whatever, and it wasn't because they were going to essentially kill her. It was something else, something familiar, but that was preposterous. They were in Norway, and she had no tracks to follow because they'd gotten here through Fairyland.

The wind and snow began to pick up the higher they went and it got so that she had to fight to move forward. The wind seemed to push against her chest, and she was built for high altitudes! Her fur was buffeted around, it stung her eyes and her nose and mouth were numb. Ymir seemed to notice she was having trouble, because two enormous hands wrapped around her middle and hefted her up. She curled into a ball in the crook of his arm, burying her muzzle and as much of her head into his chest as she could. He didn't have fur, exactly, but it shielded her a little.

With her eyes shut, all she could tell was that they were slowly moving forward. Ymir didn't seem to mind the snow one little bit, but the wind was another matter. It fought them tooth and nail all the way to the top, and suddenly they were somewhere quiet. Deathly quiet.

She moved her head to look finally and saw that it was, surprise surprise, yet another ice cave. He had caved in the ceiling and snow had fallen all around them. He let go of her with one hand, and with the other said a single word, and with a sweeping gesture, all several tons of it was swept off to the side. The sounds of the storm were greatly muffled, but they could see it in the Ymir-sized skylight above. He didn't put her down for a moment, but she felt him change again so he could talk.

"We're very close now, but it would be easier if this damn storm hadn't cropped up. I could keep going, but you can't," he gently brushed some snow off her head. She shut her eyes and shook herself off as well as she could being held like a house pet.

She struggled to be let down, claws retracted, and he set her on her feet so she could run over to the snowbank, brush it sooth with her tail, and then very awkwardly write words in the snow there. He came over to read. She had written "How long".

"At least until the storm dies down a little. There's a strange smell in the air that I don't like, and it isn't Enya," he said darkly. She answered him with a low bass growl. She agreed with him a hundred percent. It smelled sick, unhealthy and dangerous. Wind howled, like a voice moaning for attention or help, and she curled up in as tight a ball as she could and looked up at Ymir stalking about with her bright crystal blue eyes.

"You can change here if you like. I made this cave myself, centuries ago. I sense nothing living here," he said to her. He reached into his pack and brought out a truly enormous fur coat with a hood ringed in real fur, though she couldn't tell what animal it was from. She didn't care to, but she wanted her voice back. Ten minutes later, shivering and blue, she slipped the coat on and was able to cacoon herself into it.

"Th-thanks," she muttered.

"Careful," he smiled cautiously. But he was smiling regardless.

"Hey, I don't mind doing favors for you, you're nice to me and I like you," she huffed.

He was quiet for a moment. "I wasn't always, you know. The closer we get to my objective, the more I feel that it would put you into harm's way. I haven't spoken to Enya in many, many long years and don't really remember what she was like anymore. She's no doubt changed. She may target you instead of me, and you're a lot more vulnerable than I am," he sighed.

"I care about you, too," she smirked his way. He seemed surprised for a moment and then shrugged. "I can't lie. So I guess that was what I was saying, wasn't it?" he chuckled.

"Mmm... I can' t help but think that smell is familiar, and it's also impossible," she shivered.

He looked up at the "skylight" and nodded.

"Your own ex?" he guessed.

She nodded.

"He always seems to find me no matter what, and it smells like him, but... sick. More dangerous," she frowned. "I have no tracks to follow, I don't know how he'd get here... but it smells like him,".

He set up a small fire so they could get at least a little warm and brought out both yeti meat and bear meat. Her stomach growled and she wasted no time in eating some of it raw before cooking anything. Blood dripped down her chin and through her fingers, and she was glad to see she wasn't alone.

"Man, you have no idea how hungry I was...," she growled. He nodded and simply watched her while she all but inhaled what he'd given her. It wasn't enough, but it would do to keep the hunger at bay until they got back. Speaking of which...

"How will we get back?" she asked.

He thought about that for a moment.

"I really don't want to risk taking you into Underhill again. I have enough funds to fly you back, but I hate planes. If I were meant to fly I'd have wings," he scowled. The effect it made was comical, and she laughed. It made him smile, that sound, and he finished his own jerky before cleaning his mouth, hands and beard off in the snow.

"I wouldn't mind it. But who would pick me up and where do I go? Non-native, remember?" she asked.

"I can make arrangements. Zee's favor isn't fully repaid until we are both safely back in Washington state," he reminded her.

She scooted a little closer to him by the fire and used a ring on his left hand as an excuse. She hadn't noticed it before. She took his hand in hers to better examine it, focusing entirely on it. It was silver, worked through in celtic knots with tiny snow-colored opals woven in. In the very center of it was an ice blue diamond the like of which she'd never seen before. It was a man's ring, obviously, but it was pretty.

He let her manhandle him and smirked down at her head.

"Amusing yourself?" he asked. He really didn't mind her touch. Her hands were warm.

She looked up at him without dropping it and gave him a sarcastic nod and a grin. "Yup,".

"I notice you wear no jewelry besides your necklace," he pointed to it. She shook her head.

"It's pretty, but I tend to lose things, and with constant shifting, y'know...," she sighed. "Hey Ymir... what will you do once she's... y'know, dead?" she asked gently.

He didn't answer for a moment, stoking the little campfire and thinking to himself. After a moment he looked down at her with a grin.

"Send you packing back to the United States and when I get there, perhaps ask you out on a date," he replied.

She blinked in surprise, and decided to live on the wild side and be daring for once in her life. Fuck Aaron and the horse he rode in on, screw being single and damn to the depths the thought that he might think she was rebounding. She leaned up and with a hand to the side of his face, she kissed him. She'd had a chance to warm up by the fire and his skin was cool to the touch. She was surprised there wasn't any steam, when cold met hot.

He was tense at first, but after a moment, he put a hand on her shoulder and seemed to melt into it, literally. She wasn't used to the facial hair, but it didn't bother her. And once he was into it, it was like fireworks. He kissed her like she'd never been kissed, but then he'd had many more years to practice. Her lips were feverish against his soft, cooler ones and his hand was beginning to warm from the contact with her bare shoulder. She had no idea how long they kissed like that by the fire, but when he finally pulled her away by a few inches, his silvery eyes were smoldering. She found herself almost mesmerized by them but she stared right back with a smile. It got wider as he spoke and she heard he was a little hoarse.

"I won't ask. But I think I should warn you. If you do that again, we might be stuck in this cave longer than you wanted,".

She thought about that for a moment, and at the last minute remembered her tongue ring. She reached into her mouth and unscrewed it, and put it into a side pocket of the harness she'd taken off moments before. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"So I can do this," she grinned, and curled an arm around his neck and kissed him again, more forcefully.

He licked his lips and she caught his tongue, slipping her own into his mouth and he made some sort of noise she so guessed it'd been awhile. Then she thought again because a moment later his hand was slipping the coat off her bare shoulders and he was laying her down on top of it on the snow, lavishing her mouth and jawline with icy kisses that were beginning to warm up. She raised her head so he could get to her neck if he wanted, but it was also to show that she was comfortable in assuming a submissive role wherever this went to. Oh who was she kidding, she knew damn well what was coming. Figuratively speaking. Then he paused a moment to take off a few of his clothes, and rolled her head back on her neck to breath against her throat. While she wasn't looking, he slipped a hand up the side of her body, beginnng at her outer thigh and ending over one breast. She raked his hair back so he was forced to look at her again and she licked at his mouth, hungry for more of those dynamite kisses.

"It's cold. Warm me up," he growled roughly, and hoo boy.

She smoothed hot fingertips down his shoulders and to his bare chest, down to his waist. He was wearing leather pants with furred accents and they were the old fashioned tie-fly kind. Made it easier to do what she did next, and unto them. He preferred commando, apparently, as she soon saw, and if she'd thought he was impressive when flaccid, she wasn't disappointed now.

She tore her eyes away a moment, long enough to move his beard to the side and get at his neck, and one warm hand slipped up the harder part of his sex and he groaned. His skin was getting warmer the more she touched him, so she decided to be mean and gently scrape her nails down his chest. He responded in kind by picking her hips up with a hand under her lower back and nuzzling her belly. She shrieked with ticklish laughter, but it distracted her enough for him to part her thighs with his free hand. She was comfortable enough, waiting, but then he distracted her yet again with another of those kisses and while their tongues danced, he slid inside of her like a glove. A very big, slightly-throbbing glove.

He took most of the initiative, which was fine with her because she was being reduced to a puddle of horny goo the moment he began to move. She'd never done it like this, he was being slow and so very gentle, interrupting various warm glances and gentle thrusts with kisses and a lot of nuzzling. She gasped as he hit a particularly sweet little spot, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Ah... oh my gods, Ymir,..." she whispered. He gave her an extra hard push at his name, and she cried out, her voice reverberating around the cave they were in. The fire lent an extra warmth as they made love by the hearth, it was the only words she could give to sex like this. Gentle, caring, romantic. Never in her life had she known it like this, how sweet it could be.

Eventually his thrusts got quicker, and harder, and it was all she could do to stay quiet about it, but they were in the middle of nowhere, who was there to hear? He sure wasn't being shy about making noise, and every groan she got from him made her smile in satisfaction. She undulated her hips beneath him and gave him extra squeezes here and there so she could say she did SOMETHING, and with one final hard slam, he stopped above her with a throaty roar, not directed at her. She felt him throbbing against her outer lips, but could't feel what he was spreading inside of her, and that was fine with her. Just knowing that she got him off made her hot.

His skin just as hot to the touch now as hers was, he leaned down and kept moving, even though he was shuddering and panting. She made pathetic mewling sounds against his neck, licking, biting and kissing his throat, until she felt his hand snake down to help out his member, and she lost it. Electric shivers raced up and down her body and her entire back arched. She screamed into his shoulder as she climaxed beneath him, legs wrapped around his hips to push him in deeper. She didn't come down for awhile but when she did, she was so relaxed all she could do was lay there.

He straddled her for a moment, still resting within her, and just looked down at her with a glint to those silver eyes and a shaky smile on his face. She grinned back up at him, one arm above her head and the other on his belly. He was in pretty good shape.

"You're...," she panted. She laughed, because she couldn't finish, and it sounded so cliche anyway.

"Out of practice, I know," he smiled.

She stared at him.

"If that was "out of practice," I can't even think about what it'd be like if you were on your A-game," she groaned.

He rolled off of her at last, and she decided to wrap his coat around her and lay against him, enjoying the afterglow.

"Make you wonder why you'd ever bothered with humans?" he asked.

"Oh yeah,."

There was silence for a moment more as they both got their breath back, and more than likely thinking on what had just transpired between them. She decided she had no regrets, and he wasn't pushing her away. She sort of hoped that meant he didn't have any regrets either.


	13. Found You

I can't promise the Norwegian in this is entirely correct, but that's what us non-speakers do, we use google translate XD

EHFJEVRIGRWEVJWVWCNEFEFEIFWJVMVNRBNRGJWEJUFDFEWKWENVRJVGRWJVWKEVMEWVNW

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The blizzard outside howled to a deafening pitch, the wind shrieking like a Banshee and it made Ramona very glad that she and Ymir were in this cavern. As she lay next to him atop the fur coat, she watched it rage through the hole they'd made in the ceiling. But where did they stand with each other now that they'd had some pretty awesome sex by the firelight? He obviously liked her, she knew that much. He cared enough about her to be worried that his ex would go after her and not him with whatever fury hell hath bestowed upon her.

As content as she as right then, laying next to, and half on top of her newest friend, something still bothered her. That scent that was getting stronger the longer they laid there. It smelled like her ex, but it was all wrong. Mixed in with the usual scent of man, pot and food there was polar bear, madness, and something that quite frankly scared the crap out of her. Blood wasn't so unusual but the blood she smelled wasn't human. It was Fae.

Wait a second. She hadn't been able to smell the blood before. Which meant he was getting closer? She turned to Ymir, she nude, he mostly so, and shook him awake.

"Ymir… wake up. Something's wrong, he's getting closer. We should move, storm or no storm, you can carry me," she whispered.

He raised his head a fraction of an inch to look at her, his silver eyes still a little hazy with pleasure and something that looked like lust, but he sniffed the air too. He frowned.

"I smell us," he said. He sat up, holding her close still, and sniffed again. It was unmistakable. Beneath the howling wind and the cold snow blowing by up above, there was a smell of Someone Else.

"We're moderately well-hidden. Even in a blizzard it'd be hard to see a hole in the snow, unless he stumbled right onto us, and from what I smell, he's not in his right mind," he replied.

She leaned against him with an arm around his middle. "I didn't intend to get my own problems mixed up in this," she apologized. "He's the whole reason I'm even here, he attacked me at Zee's garage".

Together they waited and then they heard the footsteps. Directly above their heads, but out of their line of sight there was the crunch, crunch, crunch of human feet plodding through deep snow. The smell was right on top of them, and a look of alarm passed over Ymir's face. He put a finger to his lips and whispered close to her ear.

"Fae blood. He's been eating Fae to find you. There are some Fae who can find anything no matter WHERE it is, I bet my truck that's how he's been tracking you. But it's driven the bear in him insane," he frowned.

She dared to whisper back.

"Wouldn't that have tipped off the Grey Lords, Fae disappearing like that or being found all eaten and bloody?"

He nodded. "It would. And that doesn't bode well for him, or you. But whatever happens, I will back you up," he whispered, and he did something that made her feel warmer inside than the fire did. He pressed his forehead to hers and gave her a little nuzzle. It was a small sign of affection but it was one that made her feel wanted. It had been a very long time since she'd felt that.

"I know you're here!" yelled a man's voice from up above them. It was RIGHT above them, and he sounded sick. "You can't run forever! You have to face me eventually, bitch!"

She cast a nervous glance at Ymir, as if asking should she reveal herself, and he shook his head no. He put a hand to the floor below them and began to chant. His voice took on an unmistakable echoey quality and she felt the magic roll off of him in waves.

"_Kom, barn av isen. I navnet til Ymir, og i navnet til Moder Jord, kommer håndtere denne inntrengeren. Han som ville skade oss fortjener døden denne natten."_

She could guess at some of it, because he spoke slowly. She had heard him speak Old Norse before, and this wasn't the same so it must be modern Norwegian he was speaking. Perhaps the thing he was summoning didn't understand Old Norse?

He opened his eyes, and held her tightly, as if afraid somewhere was to come any moment and steal her away. Then it occurred to her that he was trying to be protective, and her liking for him was jotted up another notch.

Up above them, there was a shout and a curse and they both heard it. Yeti.

With a grin, she sat with him and listened. There was the sound of roaring, ripping skin and bones popping. Aaron was changing his shape, and far too quickly to be normal. She heard he familiar bellow of his polar bear, and the Yeti's furious bellows. They got glimpses of the fight as one or the other of them leapt over their hidey-hole. Aaron's muzzle was soaked in blood and the Yeti, unbelievably, seemed to be losing.

Finally all sounds of fighting stopped. She heard bones shifting and meat tearing again, and Aaron's voice sounded worse this time around. Bloodier, sicker, more determined.

"RAMONAAAA," he screamed.

"He isn't going to go away unless I deal with him!" she whispered to Ymir.

Ymir's face darkened and he shook his head.

"Unless WE deal with him," he growled.

He kissed her forehead and let her go, before standing and shifting again. He became his war form, eyebrows glittering, snow falling all around him, and she prepared herself for a good long, bloody fight. If he was ready and willing, than so was she.

She ignored the dull aching pain in her feet and stood nude, daring to jump up into his arms. He caught her, confused for a moment until she started climbing him. She stood on his shoulders, and her shoulders and head popped out of the snow through the hole in the ceiling. She climbed her way back out onto the mountaintop to see Aaron's bare back and ass just in front of her, and a dead Yeti to the side of them. Blood splattered the snow in crazy patterns and everywhere she looked it was disturbed.

Ignoring the risk of frostbite, she threw a snowball at the back of his head. Her skin was turning blue, her lips were turning purple and her dark hair billowed around her head.

"Hey asshole! You found me, congratulations, now what do you WANT!? It's OVER! Go HOME!" she screamed.

Aaron turned on her with a furious snarl, just as naked as she was. He wasn't nearly as impressive as Ymir or the Sea God had been. The cold wasn't making it any better.

His eyes, normally blue, were blazing orange and his skin had an unhealthy pasty cast to it. His mouth and chest were stained red with blood and up this close he didn't just smell dangerous, he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in a week.

"I WANT your head on a plate! NO ONE dumps me, Ramona!" he screamed wildly. "NO one! I gave you EVERYTHING you ever wanted. EVERYTHING. I took CARE of you. And you run off! What did you think I would do, let you go? You have ANY idea what I've done to find you, take you back!?"

Ymir climbed his way out of the snow behind her, looming over her. Ten feet tall was a long shadow to cast and Aaron gawked for a moment. Ymir snarled at him.

Ramona was beside herself with fury, she didn't even care about the cold now.

"TOOK CARE of me!? You smashed my phone, FORBADE me from talking to anyone but you and you put a lock on the refrigerator door! You raped me the first time we EVER went on a date, you hit me when you thought I was being cheeky, I should've killed you while you slept WEEKS ago! You're the BIGGEST, misogynistic, possessive, egotistical ASSHOLE that ever existed and I'm DONE with you! Get going or risk dying, Aaron!" she shrieked. Every word she said was true. She hadn't minded the rape so much, because it had lasted all of four seconds and he hadn't been able to get it up, or even ejaculate, honestly had no idea why she was even with him for that long, long two months.

Though at the mere mention of the word rape, Ymir dashed out from behind her with a roar that sort of scared even her, and Aaron really DID have to run for his life.

As much as she enjoyed watching Ymir "protect" her, she thought she'd be pissed if she didn't at least get to help beating the crap out of him. He had it coming, and no one knew he was here, likely as not. She focused on her change, drawing on everything she had, and about two minutes later, she was up against a rabid polar bear, two on one.

He stood on all fours, planted firmly in the snow. Bloody foam dripped from his jaws and orange eyes rolled madly in his head. They glowed, lighting up the snow as it fell all around them and with an enraged bellow in her direction, he charged.

He was enormous, but she was faster. She waited until the last minute and LEAPT, turning in midair so she came down atop his back. You're damn skippy she dug her claws in. She couldn't hold on for long but she tried. With her back claws dug in deep, she started slashing at him with her forepaws until he threw her off.

She went flying over his head and skidded on her side in the snow, only to get back up again to see Ymir using him as a punching bag. As a Polar Bear, Aaron was about three sizes too big, but Ymir was bigger, and his hands were the size of garbage can lids. Where Zee had been flung about like a toy despite all his power, Ymir had muscle on his side and he used it.

Losing his head completely, Aaron ignored the punch that broke his snout, and buried his fangs deep into Ymir's left hand. Both males howled in pain and fury, and Ramona stepped in again despite being smaller than both of them. She would never be able to get to Aaron's neck, there was too much fur and blubber, so she went for his injured nose. Her fangs were designed to snap the necks of Ibis and other prey, she had no problems closing her saber canines around his injured snout. There were several sick, crunching noises from deep within and the scream he uttered was almost immortal. Despite how much she hated the man it was almost painful to listen to, and when she finally backed away it was to see that his eyes were streaming and blood gushed from his wound in a scarlet fount.

The fight was as good as lost, and he knew it, but she didn't think Aaron was in charge anymore. There was absolutely nothing of him in what the bear did next. With its snout crushed and at least one leg broken, Ymir's doing, he charged at her. She waited, watching him. She would have the last word THIS time, damn it.

When he was less than a foot away, she turned tail and ran back towards the hole in the snow that would lead to the secret cavern at the hilltop. With any luck he'd miss it, and fall right through. She wasn't disappointed.

He bellowed again and she turned just in time to watch him fall through, his heavy weight breaking more of the ceiling. Ymir was hot on his heels, and wasted no time in jumping through after him. She wanted him maimed. He wanted him dead.

She jumped in after them and saw that Aaron's fur was singed. He'd landed on top of what was left of their little campfire, adding insult to injury, and Ramona got behind him and closed her fangs shut on his hind ankle.

With a furious roar, he spun with his legs spread and snapped at her, kicking her away, and she dodged nimbly, looking for another way in to hurt him. Ymir grabbed him by his forelegs and threw him into the opposite wall. He landed with a crunch in the frozen snow, and got up shaky, weaving from side to side. Aaron was definitely not in charge anymore. The polar bear was, and the polar bear was insane. One leg broken, his snout crushed and bleeding, one back leg punctured, he refused to give up the fight. Reeking of both Were magic and Fae magic that he shouldn't have ever been able to acquire, he reared up on two legs and gave one final roar before coming down at her, fangs aimed for her throat. She froze for just a fraction of a second, unsure what he was going to do, but she was sure it was nothing good. She just, FROZE.

He came down on her left foreleg with a snap, and it was Ramona's turn to scream. She roared in pain and limped away from him, only to be pushed to the side as Ymir in all his fury charged at the rampaging polar bear, and finally used his mouth.

All those glittering, jagged teeth in that enormous mouth were more than enough to bite clean through fur and blubber and he did what she could not. He bit clean through his neck, until his spine was severed, and 2500 pounds of rampaging polar bear fell dead to the ice.

Time seemed to stop and even the storm outside seemed to fall quiet in reverence to their battle.

Aaron's Bear lay dead, beheaded, blood pooling around him in a tacky red puddle that stank like no blood ever should. Ymir had the presence of mind to get their gear away from it.

He was breathing heavy and blood stained his teeth, dripping down his chest. He spat it out, using snow to help with the job, and finally he returned to the form she knew best. He growled at the thing he'd literally just bitten to death and then paid attention to her. He crouched down until they were on a level and held a hand out. He knew that in her pain and the adrenaline, it might not be her in control, but her leopard.

Honestly it was a little of both. The leopard was convinced she should take control, they were hurt and why shouldn't she, but Ramona knew Ymir was no threat. She told the cat to hush, and hobbled her way on three legs to his outstretched fingers.

"You're hurt," he said. She gave a pained but confident yowl, and began to shift back, but he put a hand on her head. "No. You'll heal faster in this form, don't change back. I have bandages to set the leg, and then I'm going to feed you until you throw up. We aren't leaving until you can put weight on it," he said sternly.

She stared at him and growled.

"Don't try, you'll never convince me. You came along to repay Zee's favor, not get yourself killed," he huffed. He rooted around in their bags until he found what he wanted, and then he sat on his ass with his legs splayed out and called to her.

"I won't hurt you," he promised her.

She hobbled her way over, and sat on her haunches, offering him her broken left leg, and he worked quick about setting it. She roared with the pain, and to his credit he didn't flinch. He smoothed the fur on her side to soothe the beast, and began splinting it. It was her humerus, not her forearm. He used medical wrap and a plastic splint to hold it, and wrapped it tight. It felt a little better.

"I don't have anything for pain, but I'll send you home soon. I want you to promise me, whatever happens when we confront Enya you won't try to join the fight," he said. She blinked at him and growled, but he shook his head and held her face between both his hands. He stared her right in the eye, not blinking.

"I MEAN it, Ramona. Promise me with a kiss, you won't get between us whatever happens."

She tried to get out from between his hands, she would promise NO such thing, but he was strong, and he held her. He was serious. She huffed, and grudgingly licked his face.

"Good enough," he sighed, and he hugged her round the middle like you would a big dog, and pet her neck and chest.

She was tired from the fight, and testy because it had been sort of her fault, this whole mess, but the sight and smell of fresh meat had her salivating and thinking seriously about sleeping. The more she slept, the faster she'd heal.

He made good with his promise of feeding her until she puked. Yeti, bear, hamburger meat, even dried jerky, he made her eat some of all of it. To her credit, she tried, but after the last piece of jerky, she laid on her side with a groan and mewled. No more, it said.

He laughed at her, and scratched behind her ears, stretched out against the wall close beside her. He had another fire going, far from the dead polar bear.

"Not long now, Ramona. As soon as I'm confident you can walk again, we'll find Enya, and then I'll send you home," he promised.

Exhaustion was beginning to overtake her but she wasn't surprised to believe him.


	14. Debt repayed

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

She didn't know how long she slept, or how long he made her wait out the healing process in that cavern. Later when she thought to ask him, he told her nearly twelve hours to the former and around a week for the latter.

She hadn't wanted to waste quite that much time, and she could only think about what her mother and stepfather must be thinking, not hearing from her for that long. But she HAD told them not to expect to hear from her for awhile…

By the time he was ready to let her venture out, her arm was mostly healed, but still incredibly tender. She'd stayed in leopard form the entire time. She could stay in that form as long as she liked, but after a time there was a risk that all her humanity would eventually fade and there would be no coming back from it. But according to him it'd only been around a week. She grew restless towards the end of it, and it was only at her constant pawing and chuffing at him that he finally agreed that they could move forward. She may have been a leopard and unable to speak, but she got her intentions and messages through clearly enough just with body language. She had come to care about him on their long, eventful trek. From the affectionate scratching, tummy rubs and absentminded pettings, she knew the feeling was mutual. There were some things you couldn't go through without coming to like a person, and she thought a trek through Underhill was one of them.

He buckled her harness up again, and hefted her up through the skylight with one hand supporting her ribs and the other between her back legs; it was just the most structurally practical way without throwing her and hoping she landed right.

He hopped out behind her in his battle form only to switch back the moment he landed beside her. She waited for him to take the lead, and followed on at their usual pace. Up this high, the air was thinner, but of course she was adapted for it, and he didn't mind it, the snow elf that he was. The farther they went, the darker it got, but she began to smell something new on the air; wood smoke and cured meat and other nice homey smells. Someone must either have a camp up here or a lodge of some kind, but who would build so high up and out of the way? Apparently his ex girlfriend would. They rounded a corner and there about a dozen yards ahead, nestled into the crook between two hills overlooking the town far below, was a two-story log cabin with a wraparound porch. Cured meat did indeed hang from the rafters just outside the door, firewood lay in a neat pile just outside and she spotted a doghouse around front. It looked like it belonged out in the woods somewhere, not at the top of a mountain. Still, it appeared cozy and it was the first sign of civilization they'd seen since overlooking the town.

The closer they approached, the stronger the smell of burning wood got and then she smelled the woman, Enya her name was. She smelled of old fur and smoked beef and old woman, though according to Ymir she'd somehow survived these long 800 years. They would soon figure out that mystery. She also smelled dog, a female and whatever it was, it had long fur; probably a husky or wolf hybrid. She also smelled a cat.

They got within a foot of the front porch and someone came out of the front door. She wasn't stooped, but when she turned around, she had the face of an old lady, somewhere in her seventies. For all of it, she moved as if she were a younger woman. She wore a long dress and a wool shawl made of fur, most likely rabbit or something similar. She bet rabbit. Her hands were arthritic and calloused-looking. She lived alone. She'd been living out here, surviving, for 800 years. Despite whatever she was going to do or had ever done, like kill her infant son, Ramona couldn't help but give her mental props.

"I expected you would come back some day," she said with a nod at Ymir. Then she looked at Ramona and her eyes narrowed slightly. "And you haven't changed much. Still using the Werecreatures as your personal hunting parties?" she asked.

Ramona growled softly at her, lip curling to reveal just the barest hint of fang, and before she knew it there was a flash of magic, and she couldn't open her mouth. Whining, she dug her muzzle into the snow and tried to fight off the insane buzzing, like bees, which had her jaws glued shut all of a sudden. Ymir scowled and stepped out in front of her. It was hard to read the expression on his face. Sorrow? Anger? Regret? The woman seemed to mirror them all. Then it occurred to her what she also smelled like. She smelled like witch. Black or white, she couldn't tell but they both got their magic from sacrifice; in her eyes as a Wiccan, doing harm to anything without cause was a reason enough to mistrust them.

"Relax. I mean no harm to you and yours, Ymir. I was wondering just yesterday when you would come and find me again. So many years, and so many regrets," the old woman sighed.

Ymir approached her on the porch and she held up a single hand. That was all it took, and Ymir stopped.

"Please, Ymir. I don't wish to fight. I'm very old, and I'm very tired," she said.

"I understand. And I see now the lengths you had to go to, in order to live this long. You always wished you were Fae," he smiled, though it was pained.

She nodded. "I wished so much that we could grow old together. Now I think it's time for this charade to end, don't you? The people in the town below are beginning to mistrust me at last and I don't wish to cause a panic," she smiled. She had no teeth and the smile she gave them both looked friendly and a little comical. It made her dark eyes crinkle up and despite her age, Ramona got a sense of power. There was no way it could be so easy, after all of this, would she just let him kill her?

Ymir looked back at Ramona with a sorrowful look on his face, and she took hesitant steps forward, eyes on Enya. Finally she stood at his side on the bottommost step of the porch and it was with a little effort that the old woman knelt to look Ramona in the eye. She was silent for a moment.

"She is beautiful, Ymir. But will she replace me, I wonder?" was all she said. Ramona huffed at her, and then at Ymir. She had no desire to replace this woman. She just wanted to be happy. She refused to be jealous of this old crone. She was better than that.

"What is it you want, Enya?" asked Ymir finally.

She looked around at her home, the dog house, the log cabin's frozen, flaking walls, the warm looking hearth behind her within the house. A fluffy malamute padded out to stand beside her and cast weary eyes on Ramona's cat body. The dog was smart to stay away. Finally she looked back up at Ymir.

"When I was young and heartbroken, I did something foolish, and unforgiveable. I took something from you. And all these years I have lived since have been at the sake of others. I am ready to die, but I want it to be at your hand, and may the Gods accept me wherever I wind up," she said quietly.

It was with a heavy hand that Ymir reached behind him and pulled a huge sword out of his pack. She had no idea how he fit It in there, it was longer than his gear by a little more than a foot, and it was ancient, but it was wicked sharp looking and gleamed silver. He looked like a warrior holding it.

She cast an eye at Ramona.

"Look after Molly and him for me, would you?" she asked. The dog gave a whine at her name.

Ramona didn't know what else to do except nod, and she backed away. There would be blood, she had no doubt. She also knew that as much as Ymir had expected this outcome, perhaps known all along, he didn't really want to do this. But he raised his sword up high, at just the right angle, and with a well-aimed swing that spoke of years of practice, he beheaded her without a sound. Ramona watched as her head rolled, eyes closed and face at peace at last, and come to rest at the base of the chopping block in the front yard. Her body fell where she had stood.

Molly the malamute whined with her tail between her legs, and Ramona chuffed at her, trying to calm her down a little. She looked up at Ymir and wasn't surprised to see tears on his face.

"A mistake and a chapter of my life, closed and completed after 800 years. It's about time," he said at last. He looked down at the body, and finally picked it up. Where his hands touched her, ice began to spread until she resembled a body frozen in a small glacier. He used magic to bury her someplace she'd never be found, placed her head in with it, and with a whispered spell had about five tons of snow cover her up.

He went inside afterwards, and sat down on a well-used couch in front of a roaring wood stove, and stared at the knotted rug on the floor. Ramona followed him in and hopped up beside him, putting her head across his lap for him to pet if he wanted to. She wasn't disappointed. She thought he needed a moment, to think and to process, and close the chapter in his mind as well. She'd stay there as long as she needed to, repaying him for the time he gave her to heal.

Molly the dog seemed to be grief-stricken at losing her master of who-knew how many years, and she gave a very wolf-like howl, grieving in her own way. The old woman had bade her take care of the dog. Well she always was a dog person despite being part leopard. Molly seemed old, perhaps 9 or 10, and she was covered in cream-colored fluff. She was a beautiful dog and Ramona smelled no magic on her. Apparently she'd been a true pet to Enya. She had very similar bright blue eyes.

"It's done," he said at last. "My business is taken care of and you've served me well in taking Zee's place. His debt is payed, and I think I'll take you into the town and get you on a plane home to Washington," he said at last. She wondered if he was really okay, but that was his business and she didn't want to push the issue. He would grieve and get over it in his own way, in his own time.

She forced the change back to human, hoping her skin wasn't the last thing to come through. It was. Ow. Finally she stood up, fully nude, and stretched. "I don't think she would mind me borrowing some clothes, would she?" she asked. Ymir shook his head.

"No. In fact, take what you will. I'm sure she wouldn't mind, and I aim to destroy this place before we go anyhow. So when people come up to investigate, they will know she is dead or gone, and they can set their fears aside," he told her.

She nodded, and went in search of something that might fit her. She found a long, full-skirted black dress that was kind of a modern fashion, and it was comfortable. Plus, it smelled like Enya, so Molly seemed more at ease around her. She'd wash it when she got home, though. She didn't much like smelling like Ymir's dead ex lover. She grabbed some socks and a pair of very furry boots and gloves and that was that.

She didn't take anything else, because she didn't want anything else. The woman had killed a baby once upon a time ago, after all, and she was a witch to boot. No thank you.

"I'm ready as I'll ever be," she said at last. She grabbed a soft brown leather jacket covered in fur trim, tied on the harness over that, and she thought she was good to go.

He nodded, and led her out. Once they were a respectable distance away, and Molly was on a leash, he raised his arms to the sky and spoke in Old Norse again, his voice bellowing, carrying far into the evening. With a roar that got louder the closer it got, a wall of snow came crashing down, crushing the house like Lincoln logs, extinguishing any fire and removing any trace that anyone lived there at all. She just stared, marveling.

"Remind me never to piss you off," she said with a frown.

He smiled at her, and it was genuine.

"Even if you managed to, I don't think I could bring myself to hurt you," he replied.

She only gave him a hug, and a big one at that.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she said at last.

He put a hand on her head, then tilted her face up towards his. He was a foot taller than her in his true form. "What's done is done. Come on, down the path she made, it should be smoother-going," he motioned.

The path was indeed easier-going. It was lined on either side by reflector poles, and once in awhile, electric lights that couldn't have been easy to install. As darkness fell, she became glad for the occasional light. You never realized how dark the dark could get until it was REALLY dark.

Finally they reached the town. At eye level, it really was bigger than it seemed from above. The first thing she saw upon walking in from the back was a long street and a café on the right that was still open. To the left was what looked like the small airport they'd seen, though it appeared only for smaller, personal craft. It was here he steered her towards. There was a building with a restaurant inside of some kind, and a kiosk that dealt with the pilots.

It was blissfully warm inside, and no one objected to Molly. She was very good on a leash, Ramona noted.

The lady at the kiosk didn't speak English, so she let Ymir handle the details. The inside of the place was threadbare-looking, but sterile and clean-smelling. Coffee stained the air and she drank in the scent of civilization. She loved the smell of coffee even if she hated the taste.

Ymir handed over what looked like quite a LOT of money, at least to her anyway, and the lady made a phone call. In no time at all, it seemed, she was being escorted out back onto the takeoff strip by a middle-aged man all dressed in black and blue. Evidently she was leaving here in style on a personal aircraft owned by a local who had clearance to fly in both Norway and the U.S.

He helped her up, showed her the crate he would stow Molly in, and soon enough Ramona was looking at Ymir from the plane window.

He was waving to her. She kissed her hand and blew it towards him. She was surprised when he reached out as if to catch it, and placed his hand over his heart.


	15. Back to Finley

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

She couldn't have told anyone how long the trip took, how Molly settled into her crate or what the pilot talked about, if anything on the way back to the U.S. She slept a good portion of the way, woke up once as they were flying over the Atlantic. Apparently they stopped over in London, England, and she sorely regretted not waking up for that because she'd always wanted to visit. The moment she saw the East Coast, she looked down to try and spot the landmass that she called home, but it all sort of blended in.

They stopped over again somewhere in the midwest before finally pulling into a big commercial airport just outside of Finley, Washington where she had started out.

She was beyond jetlag. It had taken just over 48 hours from start to end, at the end of an almost-month-long journey. She said goodbye to the pilot, clipped a bright magenta leash on her newly-inherited pet Malamute and with the harness and pack on her back and around her chest, fur everywhere, feeling VERY awkward, she walked her way out of the airport.

Once she stood outside at the pick up and drop off area, it occured to her that not only did she have no idea where she was, but her car was totaled and Elsewhere, and aside from Zee and Mercy, whom she'd only met once, and Uncle Mike, again who she had only ever met once, she knew nobody here.

People rushed hither and thither, waited for rides or looked at her in her odd coldweather attire and her big fluffy cream-colored dog. Taxis came and went, a couple of limos, a jeep or an SUV here and there, cars of course. It took a moment before she noticed a man in sunglases over by the "exit only" lane, leaning against a shiny Camaro holding a sign. She shielded the early morning sun from her eyes and read it. In plain black print, it read "Dunbar".

"Well, looks like we got a ride after all, girl," she sighed.

She just had the dog, and the supplies on her back so there was no luggage to roll out. She weaved her way through traffic and people and Molly sniffed at the darkly-dressed man. He was slender, and a few inches taller than she was. He removed the sunglasses and saw that his eyes were a startling shade of green. They also seemed slightly familiar. Then he flashed a chilly smile at her and she knew somehow who it was.

"... I thought you said you never left Underhill?" she asked.

He shrugged. His Glamour was expert, had the same pale colored hair and green eyes, but the skin was more tanned. He still smelled of ocean though.

"I decided to give it another try. These vehicles are interesting despite all the steel," he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He got serious then. "I'm to take you back to Mercy Thompson's garage, and then it's back to my home for me," he told her.

"If you say so," she sighed. She opened the back door of the sparkly green camaro and Molly hopped right in. It wasn't a newer model, probably sometime in the mid-90's and it had a convertible cloth top that was pulled back. Compared to all the cold she'd had to withstand lately, it wasn't that bad out here.

"Nice car," she commented as she climbed into the passenger's seat.

"Unfortunately it isn't mine," he started the engine again they were off. For a guy who'd last seen the world of Iron sometime around 1600, he drove remarkably well.

She didn't ask many questions on the way there, and he didn't press for conversation. She had a feeling he wasn't used to catering to anyone anyway, being who he was. She rather suspected he was Neptune, or Poseidon or one of those ancient mythic Sea Gods, but she didn't want to know. He wouldn't answer her even if she asked.

The dents in the side of the wall near the door had been fixed, she noticed once they pulled into the driveway. There were just as many cars here as there had been last time she'd visited. Zee and Mercy met them outside before he even had it in park.

Mercy had her hair tied off in a braid that fell straight down her back and wore no jewelry. Her shirt was tied around her middle and her arms and hands were oilstained. Her jeans looked as if she'd had them for years.

Zee with his glamour just looked like the same grumpy older man, though he had similar stains. She was so used to the smell of Fae by now she had no trouble telling what he was this time. He smirked when he saw her again.

"Delivered and not a mark on her," said the Sea King with an exaggerated flourish.

She didn't want to know who had made that stipulation. Or why it'd been necessary.

Mercy seemed far more leery of the old Sea Fae than Ramona was and even Zee gave him a nod of deferance. Without a word the green-eyed glamour fell away, and there he was as naked as ever. He took a step forward- and seemed to fall into the ground, vanishing from sight. She looked around for a moment, and then back up to Zee and Mercy.

"As much Fae magic as I see, I don't think I'll ever get used to it," she admitted.

"Welcome to my world, kid. Job all done then?" asked Mercy.

Ramona nodded.

"Yeah. He said he'd meet me here... somewhere. My car got kind of... er, dead," she rubbed the back of her neck. "Think I could get a lift to a motel somewhere?"

Mercy pointed behind her, and confused, she turned. All she saw were junk cars and of course the green Camaro.

"Ymir called and said you can keep the Camaro, seeing as he destroyed the Geo, so you've got a car," she smirked.

Ramona had never owned her own car, so nevermind that her mother was now without one, she gave an excited little scream and dove into the glovebox, hardly able to believe it. He'd said he'd take care of the car issue, but she hadn't expected a convertible camaro! Sure enough, there was a title and registration in the glovebox, all in her name. How had he done this in such short time!?

She was speechless for a moment, and then she noticed Mercy and Zee talking among themselves. Mercy was smirking, and Zee gave her a shrug. So she knew they probably had something to do with the speed in which he'd gotten it. She wanted to run up and hug them both, but emotion towards Zee had already gotten her into trouble once. So she ran up and hugged Mercy.

"I know you probably won't admit it, but I'm hugging you anyway, because I know better now," she said matter-of-factly.

Mercy seemed taken aback and she caught Zee turning around to go back to work. He said something in German that made Mercy snicker, and Ramona finally let her go.

"So, uh... well that was a little embarassing. Never had my own car before... know any cheap motels?" she asked.

She said she did, and gave her the address, but before she could hop into her newish car, Mercy called her back.

"If you plan on going back to Uncle Mike's or talking to Ymir again, remember your business is finished now. They might not... well, probably won't let you back in," she warned her.

Ramona nodded. She might still try her luck, or at the very least get a message to Ymir through them, but she nodded anyway.

"Thanks again, Mercy, you and your friends rock!" she yelled from the driver's seat. It still smelled of the ocean, but it wasn't a smell she minded. It sure beat Molly's smoked-beef and old lady smell.

Speaking of Molly. She hopped up into the front seat and layed herself down so her paws hung over the edge. Before she stopped at a motel she needed to get some things for her first. Well, and herself. And she would need to find out where Uncle Mike had towed her little Geo, so it gave her a good excuse to go back there anyway.

She stopped by a walmart and threw plastic doggie dishes, flea medication, dog food, a new collar, leash and pet tag and last but not least a couple of chewy toys. It all came to around $50, and she hadn't come here with a lot. She'd decided not to get herself a change of wardrobe. If she was lucky the motel Mercy had recommended would put her up for under $100 a night.

Molly seemed happy with her toys and new hot pink collar. So it was towards Uncle Mike's that she went.

As she expected, the Geo was gone, and the bouncer, once again, refused to let her in.

"Can you just give a message to Uncle Mike for me?" she demanded.

The Fae bouncer smirked.

"What's in it for me?" he asked.

"DON'T go there," she warned, her tone only cautiously threatening.

"I haven't had to physically bounce anyone away from here in all the years I've worked for Mike, and I'd rather you not force my hand, ma'am," said the bouncer.

Ramona was jetlagged, close to broke, and had nowhere to go after she ran out of money. She was through being polite, and she didn't think the bouncer had much oomf.

"Ever seen a snow leopard the size of a tiger?" she smiled sweetly. "Get him a message, or I'll turn leopard and bounce YOU," she growled.

He glared at her and she felt the subtle roll of magic seeping out towards her, but she held up a hand. From the front seat of the convertible, Molly barked. Smart dog.

"What's the message?" he finally conceded.

She sighed.

"Tell him I'd like to know where he had my Geo towed to, there was some stuff I left inside of it. And could you ask him please to have Ymir get ahold of me when he gets back?" she demanded.

"You're lucky I'm so nice," snorted the bouncer. He turned his back on her to go in and relay the message, and thinking it done, She turned to leave.

She hadn't got one leg in the car, however, when Uncle Mike was out on the porch to the bar.

"Ramona," he called. He was in no hurry.

She looked up at him, and he walked down towards her, leaning on the side of the door. He still smelled like pine and hazelnut, and his friendly face looked a little worried.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing that you need to worry about. Your car was towed to a local recycler, I got the important things out for you." he handed her what looked like a dark green t-shirt wrapped around several odds and ends. It smelled like new cotton. Probably a pub shirt.

"I know better than to thank you, but you know that," she sighed in relief.

"And as for Ymir, he hasn't returned just yet, but when he does, I'll send him your way. Where will you be staying?" he asked.

She handed him the slip of paper Mercy had written the hotel address down on and Mike frowned.

"You sure you're up to staying THERE?" he asked. She gripped the steering wheel and sighed.

"Not much choice, I can hang. I didn't come here with much, and aside from the Fae I've met, and Mercy, I don't know anyone. Don't even know where I'm going after this," she admitted. "I do want to talk to Ymir though. I like him," she smiled. She wasn't aware that she was blushing, but Mike caught it. He laughed like it was a funny joke.

"Good timing then, is all I'll say. You might just have saved him a lot of trouble to come then. Sure, I'll send him your way," he said.

She frowned.

"... What do you mean saved him a lot of trouble?" she said slowly.

Mike only winked.

"Won't say anymore there, and I'm not sorry. It's for Fae to know, and humans to guess at," he said sagely. He gave her car a pat.

"How can you touch it without... I dunno... screaming?" she asked.

"Are you joking? There's enough fiberglass, alloy and plastic in these things now'a days, not to mention all the wax," he smirked. "Ymir picked it himself".

"I love it," she grinned.

"You need anything, you send a message my way, I'll see what I can do," he promised.

She laughed.

"I'll remember that if I ever feel like doing you guys any more favors," she stuck her tongue out just to tease him. It made him chuckle.

"Go on, get, I've got a pub to run and grumpy Fae to get drunk. Luck, Ramona Dunbar," he waved her off.

She decided to put the car through some paces and sped off with a rebellious grin, leaving Mike in the dust with only the red of her taillights to wave goodbye.


	16. So it begins

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The guy at the front desk told her it was $200 a night when he first saw her. At first she felt dejected, and then a little panicked, but then it occured to her that she was a freaking wereleopard, had been through Underhill and back, and had a dog with big teeth. She decided to try an intimidation tactic, and stared him directly in the eyes. Inhumanly blue eyes met muddy hazel.

"$100's all I've got. Take it and I won't tell my dog to eat you," she growled. Something of the cat purred in that growl.

As if on cue, Molly gave a little yip, and the guy thrust a card key into her hand.

Satisfied, she forked over the last of the money she had and went in search of room four. She was a little disappointed. It was the shabbiest looking Motel 8 she'd ever seen. The carpet looked puked on and the paint on the walls was peeling. She unlocked her room, and wanted to gag. It smelled clean, but that was about it. There was a hole in the wall near the television, one of the dresser drawers was missing and the air conditioner sounded broken. When she tried turning the heat on, it made a sound like broken glass.

"Well, what d'you want for a hundred bucks, it beats sleeping in the car... Come on, Molly," she sighed. She set the plastic dog bowls down and gave her some food and water, which was at least cold. She seemed grateful for it, and even wagged her tail once or twice. She'd been a little sad since they'd killed Enya, but it was expected. Dogs had a knack for feeling things out, she wasn't stupid. Who knew how long she'd been with Enya, and now the lady was dead?

She pet the dog's big fluffy head. "It'll be alright, old girl," she assured her. She found herself liking the dog more and more.

She caught movement out the corner of her eye as she flopped out on the squeaky bed and saw a cockroach skitter away into the corner of the wall near the door, and grimaced. She wasn't surprised.

She didn't realize how really tired she was until she was awoken by a knock on the door. A glance at the digital clock beside the bed told her it was nearly six hours later than when she'd checked in and it was getting towards evening outside. Her stomach growled.

"Coming," she mumbled. Maybe it was the manager, telling her he'd changed his mind.

It wasn't. It was Ymir. He had his Glamour back on, little balding spot and all, but she threw herself on him in a big hug anyway. Molly wagged her tail and barked at him by way of greeting.

He hugged her back rather enthusiastically although something about the look on his face said something was bothering him, and when he finally let her go, he gently pushed her away.

"What's wrong?" she asked with a sigh. Probably something Fae-related.

He gestured that they should go inside, and she led him in. He took a quick look around and whistled.

"They didn't have better rooms than this?" he asked. Which she took to mean 'nice place'.

"I bullied him into taking what I had. Wasn't much. I need to start looking for a job if I wanna stay out here," she shrugged. Then her eyes lit up and she grinned. "Ooo, and I love the car".

He laughed at that. "I thought you might. Look, I got your message. But there's ... something else up," he confessed.

"Mike said something about I'd be saving you a lot of trouble soon, but he wouldn't elaborate," she grimaced.

Ymir seemed a little taken aback and then he laughed. "That... sounds like Uncle Mike,".

She layed out on the shabby little bed and laid her head across his lap. He idly ran his fingers through her shoulder length hair as he spoke. She did like that.

"I've been told that the humans musn't know unless they're involved. Would you call us "involved"?" he smiled down at her.

"I dunno, you're the big bad magical snow elf, you tell me," she grinned back.

He sat there playing with her hair and she felt something give the bac of her neck a gentle nudge. She giggled.

"Judging by the flashligh in your pocket I'd say yes, we're kind of involved," she admitted at last.

He blushed right through his glamour at that, coughed, and picked it back up in a hurry. She had never seen him so flustered! She pulled herself up to her knees and faced him.

"Ymir, WHAT is it?" she asked.

He mumbled something incoherant. She leaned in closer and repeated her question and he said it loud enough for her to hear. Her face paled a little and she sputtered incredulously. He assured her she'd heard right with a nudge to the forehead. The four words he uttered changed what Mike had told her entirely.

"It's a Breeding Law,".

FAHFEHFEJFWKVJDVEJFEFDQWEODFQEWOFWEIRVJEVWEFJEWFODEQWOFWQFJEWFKJEWQ

And that was "favor owed"! I hope you guys liked it, and please, leave lots of reviews, this is the first thing I've had the gall to write and post in years, and I'm working on the sequel even as I type this! It won't follow Ramona or Ymir but they'll definitely make cameos.

THE END


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